The Best Laid Plans
by 3R15UK0UM31
Summary: ...often go awry. And after days of unsuccessful searching, Orihime finally finds Ulquiorra, only to discover that he is no longer the same. What will she do? And, more importantly, what will Soul Society think of all this? UlquiHime
1. Beginning

**Well...Here it is.**

**Beginning**

Kisuke Urahara stared at the gray sky through the window of his shop. It was tinged with a weak, sickly yellowish glow from the evening sun. He had neglected to wear his characteristic hat, as he had done on this day for the past two years. A penance to all the people he had killed; all the people whose lives he had unintentionally destroyed.

Two years…it felt like much longer since the end of the war. They had won, of course. No single man could hope to stand against the power that was Soul Society and the unstoppable juggernaut that was Ichigo Kurosaki and his friends. No matter how overinflated said man's ego was.

Urahara smiled; a small, wry, sarcastic smile, weighed down with sadness and a little guilt, as all his smiles seemed to be now. It had been Orihime that had pulled through in the last few seconds. Sure, Ichigo had put up a good fight. It was, after all, the efforts of the others that weakened Aizen sufficiently that his guard slipped. But it was Orihime – their shy, naïve, sheltered, domestic star-princess – who finished him. Destroyed him, unmade him.

There was, after all, no Hougyoku left to reject. So she settled for the next best thing, completely rejecting the existence of the man who had believed himself to be a god.

As if the act itself weren't terrifyingly out of character in itself (this was Orihime, the girl who wouldn't even defend herself from attackers), the look on her face only served to convince Ichigo that something more horrible than he could have ever imagined had happened to her during her imprisonment.

Her face was cold and hard, cleared carefully of any emotion other than pure determination. Determination to end this war, reject the reality of the man who had started it. And deep in her eyes, the burning pain of the loss of those who never deserved to die. Deep in her eyes were the scars left by the injustice of war.

Of course, there was no rejecting what he, Urahara, had done. And the effects lived on in her; her and everyone else.

Her eyes had become vacant, more than usual. Even though she still smiled and laughed and dreamed about robots with rocket-breasts and ate strange foods, it all seemed…empty, and false in light of what she had done and who she had become. Even emptier now that she was stripped of her powers. There was just nothing left in her, and her every action echoed with that hollowness.

Ichigo seemed empty as well, shaken in his belief in the right thing, shaken in his knowledge of his friends. He also lacked that particular spirit and determination that had pulled him through two multi-dimensional wars; it had left with a certain raven-haired shinigami when she disappeared from his life for good. As a precaution, Soul Society had stripped him of any and all power permanently. There was nothing anyone could do to restore it.

Uryu had made no attempt to continue his companionship with Ichigo, choosing instead to distance himself from the former substitute shinigami. He did, however, continue to visit Orihime, and he silently tried to restore that spark of life that she had left behind in the empty white halls of Las Noches and scattered across the deserts of Hueco Mundo, like ashes on the wind.

Tatsuki alone knew of her friend's troubles, whispered quietly and brokenly over bowls of chocolate-vanilla swirl ice cream topped with bacon bits and soy sauce; she had come over more and more often since the end of the war, finally becoming and almost permanent resident in the Inoue apartment. She knew the whole story, from Orihime's kidnapping to the moment when Ulquiorra disappeared. After that point, Orihime stared blankly at her bowl of ice cream, slowly melting, and refused to speak of any more. Of course, the things Orihime talked about were only the tip of the iceberg; Tatsuki could see that Orihime was holding things back that she would never tell anyone. Disturbingly enough, the majority of the story seemed centered around Orihime's green-eyed former captor. Tatsuki was sure that this…fixation was far from healthy…

_They had fixed the usual, two large, cold bowls of ice cream with Orihime's strange choice of toppings coating the ice cream itself. They sat across from each other at the low table in the living room. Tatsuki listened silently while Orihime continued her story. _

"…_And when I woke up in the morning, there was this big pile of blankets by the end of the sofa! He really listened," Here she smiled a little, sad but genuine. "And all I did was say it was a little chilly at night. I didn't make a big deal about it, or whine. He just had that confused look, and he asked me why I was shaking so much. Of course I told him, and then…"_

_She could relate every conversation word for word. She remembered even the most minute changes on her guard's face, every question and response he gave her. It was almost creepy. Scratch that, it WAS creepy. _

"_I remember one morning – well, I think it was morning, it was a little hard to tell there when all you saw was the backwards moon, and no stars or anything, or even a clock…" Sometimes Tatsuki saw small, beautiful signs that Orihime was still Orihime. Her rambling had survived. "He woke me up out of a nightmare. He commented on how pale I was, and touched my forehead to see if I was sick." She smiled again, wider this time, and gentler. "He actually sounded concerned. I told him about the bad dreams I'd been having. When he came with dinner, he stayed through the whole meal and didn't even leave when I was done eating. He sat next to me and stayed there, and even let me lay my head on his shoulder. He was gone when I woke up, of course…he probably had a lot to do, entertaining me was never his first priority." _

Tatsuki was confused at first as to how her friend could possibly be so…obviously infatuated with someone so cold and callous, someone who was everything that Orihime was not. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed that her friend was projecting onto him. There's no way this guy could be so kind; he was a hollow, heartless by definition, empty by necessity. Orihime had suffered when she'd been taken away from Ichigo, and at some point she had started to imagine his traits in this Ulquiorra guy. And she had suffered for it.

The sight of Ichigo in his hollow form, ripping the Fourth Espada limb from limb still haunted Orihime even now, two years later. Two years since any contact with Soul Society or Hueco Mundo, or even any use of her powers. Two years of normal, mundane, everyday human life. And yet still those green eyes graced her dreams and that twisted hollow form haunted her nightmares.

It was backwards. So frustratingly, annoyingly, infuriatingly backwards. Even Orihime knew it. She had said it herself.

"_Tatsuki," She murmured quietly. "Do you think someone can fall…out of love?"_

"_Sure Orihime, it can happen to anyone." Tatsuki hesitated. "Why?" She was afraid she knew the answer. _

"_I don't…I don't think I love Ichigo anymore." She said hesitantly._

"_Is it because of his hollow?"_

"_Well…" She seemed unsure. "I think I stopped loving him before that. I don't know when it happened, but it did. Does that make any sense, Tatsuki…?"_

"_Yeah." She didn't say it, but it was implied, hanging in the air. ~Anything makes sense, after what you've been through…~_

_She laughed, bitterly. "I know it doesn't, Tatsuki…you must think I'm really crazy. You don't have to agree with everything I say…"_

_Tatsuki just smiled a little. "You've always been really crazy Orihime, you just don't surprise me anymore." They both laughed, and tried to forget what had just been said. _

A gentle knock on the door startled Urahara from his guilt trip. He didn't need to open the door to know who it was, nor did he need to know why she was here. After all, it had been the same every day for the past two years.

"Hello Urahara-san!" She smiled; a big, bright, fatuous, utterly empty smile.

He simply stepped aside and let her enter, before handing her a dark green umbrella. "It looks like it may rain." She flinched involuntarily at the color, her captor's eyes flashing through her memory. She took it nonetheless.

She knew the way by now, Urahara didn't need to lead her. She walked back around the shop to a small grove of neatly trimmed bamboo that not many knew was there. She walked quietly through the tall stalks, coming quickly to a small cleared area.

In the fading light, she saw ten small, rectangular, identical stones. Not so much grave markers as memorials. Of course, there were no bodies buried beneath the stones. But it had seemed unfair that the executed traitors, Tousen and Gin, had been given proper graves and memorials, no matter how small and rough; little stones that were the last remaining proof of the two men's existence.

So in a small plot behind the Urahara Shoten, there were ten small stones dedicated to the Espada who had fought and died for a cause they had not necessarily wanted to fight for.

Orihime knelt before the one of the stones, as nondescript as the others, different only in the single character carved onto it: 四

She set up the umbrella, managing not to wince again at the color. She stuck a single stick of incense in the ground in front of the grave and lit it, watching the silvery smoke curl upwards into the now dark sky. It collected under her umbrella, pausing to waft around her head before escaping into the rain-drenched air.

"I guess I should start out by apologizing," she said, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly. "I know I haven't come in a whole week, and if you could hear me, you'd probably just tell me it was of no consequence." She mocked his deep tones and then laughed at how silly she was being. "You always acted like you didn't care, but I think you did...It's weird, huh. We're weird." She looked at the sky.

She hummed quietly, a song she had heard from somewhere. The lyrics had been lost to time and her less-than-reliable memory, but the song was beautiful nonetheless. Calming. It didn't need any words; everything it wanted to convey was said through the music.

"I do feel bad when I don't come like I promised…" Here she paused, gathering her thoughts. Rain was beginning to patter softly against the umbrella. The incense had completely filled the close space with its calming scent.

"After all, a promise is a promise. Because when you make a promise it's like swearing, heart to heart, that you will do something no matter what happens…" She smiled brightly, tiny tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, and paused again. Her smile softened. "Right there at the end, you knew. I could see it. You understood, didn't you Ulquiorra…" She could imagine she heard the soft affirmative. The rain picked up momentarily before softening again.

She continued again, as brightly as ever, the mood change seeming to have no effect on her. "So, I guess you're probably in Soul Society now. I hope you're happy; or as happy as you can be, living in a crowded place like Rukongai. It's a lot brighter there at least, and you don't have to eat souls to survive. In fact, I heard that people never get hungry there at all. Isn't that great? And maybe one day you'll even become a shinigami, and then someday I'll see you in my town!" She knew it was most likely impossible. Every conversation for the past two years had followed these same lines, but they always ended there; she would stand and leave, the incense still smoking behind her. Her thoughts would always pause at the moment of greatest pitch before they came crashing to the earth again, forever losing the name of action.

But she had sworn, this time would be different. "I got everything ready," she said, still speaking to the ever-silent gravestone. "That's why I was gone. I'm ready. I'm going to Soul Society and I'm going to find you, even if I have to look through every house in Rukongai and every barrack in Sereitei. I'll be there before you know it." The rain had stopped.

Orihime stood and closed the umbrella. With one final bow to the gravestone, she turned and headed back to the Urahara Shoten.

Urahara turned to look at her as she entered the training room. She was a little damp around the edges from the rain, but he thought she looked livelier than he had seen her since…well, since before the war. "Are you ready then?"

She nodded, resolute. "I'm ready." She stared up at the giant transdimensional gate that would lead her into Rukongai.

Urahara nodded, pleasantly surprised by the genuine hope he could see on her face. "You know you may not find him. If you do, it's very possible he will remember nothing." He felt it fair to warn her.

She simply shook her head, gazing straight into the white light that poured forth from the gate, meeting her future head on.

"I'll find him."

**Hamlet reference FTW. I had to memorize that soliloquy, now it invades my thoughts at random moments. **

**四 ****is the Japanese character for "Four".**

**Constructive criticism is appreciated. **


	2. Trust

**So, basically, I've been writing all day today. I have a camp next week, which means no internet connection. I'm trying my best to get these chapters out. **

**I was going to have just one more chapter but it passed 2000 words, hit 3000, then 4000, and I wasn't even close to done, so I'm breaking it up. This will now officially be a multi-chapter fic. Granted, probably only 4 or 5 chapters. But multi-chapter nonetheless. Let's hope I finish it. **

**Great big thank you to mika, Sheiri, talkstoangels77, soulspirit18, kimichi, summerrayah, and rimahikoandamutofan for their reviews! You guys make my day. ^_^ Have some double fudge cookies! -hands them out-**

**Ulquiorra, read the disclaimer please.**

**U:...**

**Me: Oh, come on, I said please. D:**

**U: 3R15UK0UM31 does not own Bleach, nor does she own any of the characters. **

**Me: Enjoy!**

**Trust**

"Orihime-chan! What are you doing here?"

Orihime smiled brightly at the startled shinigami. "I-"

Before she had a chance to say anything, Rukia had grabbed her arm and was pulling her none too gently out of the middle of the busy street. "We can talk later. First we need to go somewhere quieter."

They slipped stealthily between the buildings, coming to a small backstreet that was completely devoid of life other than a few friendly stray cats. They rubbed their heads against Orihime's ankles and mewed quietly; Orihime smiled, stroking them behind their ears and enjoying the sound of their purring.

Rukia finally spoke. "You know you and your friends aren't supposed to be here." She seemed to notice for the first time. "Did anyone even come with you?"

Orihime shook her head. "I came alone this time. I have something I need to do."

Rukia sighed. "Sometimes, you really do remind me of Ichigo, just jumping into things like this-"

She was cut off as Orihime pulled her into a suffocating hug. "Kurosaki-kun told me to give you that!" she said cheerfully.

"Ack…Orihime…chan…not breathing…seriously…"

"Ah! *Gomen…" She backed up and let Rukia breathe. "We all really miss you a lot down in the World of the Living. I mean, it's not like many people remember you, but some of us do, and it's just not the same without you, you know? There was this one time…"

And she was off. "Orihime," Rukia cut in. "What did you come here to do, anyways?"

Orihime instantly sobered up. "Well, I-I've come to look for a…" she paused. What was he to her anyways? Even after two years, she hadn't managed to figure that out. "For a…friend of mine who died recently. I thought…maybe he might be here. I don't know where else he could've gone…" _If he isn't here…NO! Don't think things like that. _

Rukia looked up. Friend? Did Orihime have any friends who had died? "What did he look like? I could tell you if I've seen him around Rukongai or Sereitei."

Orihime hesitated, looking at her feet and trying to decide if she should tell Rukia. "Well…he's kinda short, just a little taller than me, and he's really pale with black hair…" She paused, knowing that if she said anything else, Rukia would immediately know who it was. In fact, the redhead was surprised that the shinigami hadn't already made the connection.

"Orihime, there are probably thousands of souls in Soul Society that have black hair. Can you tell me something else? Some defining characteristic?" Rukia was confused as to why Orihime seemed so reluctant to describe this mysterious friend anymore; couldn't she see that the black-haired shinigami was trying to help her?

"…He has these really really green eyes…" She continued, growing more nervous by the second.

If Orihime said anything else, Rukia hadn't heard it. Those few words stuck in her mind. This friend exactly matched the description of the Fourth Espada, Ulquiorra Schiffer.

Her face must have registered shock clearly. Orihime's eyes began to tear up. "I knew you'd think I was crazy once you figured it out…"

"Orihime, he's an Espada! Not just an Espada, he captured you! He-" The tears were beginning to trail down Orihime's face.

"I know he is, and I know I should hate him, after all the cruel things he did to Kurosaki-kun, but I just can't. He always looked so sad, and so so young, not that much older than us, and he was tossed into this stupid war the same way we were, just trying to survive through it, and he was never mean to me, really, and he didn't deserve to…to…" She struggled to wipe the tears off her face. "I just didn't think I would miss him this much…am I really horrible for missing someone who tried to kill Kurosaki-kun…?"

"Orihime, don't cry…" Of course. Only Orihime would feel this way, could feel this way, even in the shattered aftermath of a war. It was just such an…Orihime thing to do. "Did you tell anyone you were coming?"

She shook her head, still trying to wipe away her tears with her sleeve.

Rukia smiled and held a hand out to Orihime, attempting to console her. "Come on. We can go to the 13th division and have some hot tea. You can tell me all about it, and maybe Ukitake-taicho can come up with some way to help you look for him. Ok?" Ukitake understood that there were situations that had to be solved by oneself; the petite shinigami knew her captain wouldn't mention Orihime's presence to the Soutaicho. "I'll even let you hold my favorite Chappy."

Orihime's eyes brightened a little. She sniffled. "Really…?"

Rukia nodded. Orihime slipped her hand in Rukia's, and the two set off, chatting animatedly about everything that had happened while they were away.

...

Of course, both girls were teary by the end of Orihime's story. Ukitake had listened quietly throughout the whole thing before he finally spoke up, his expression serious as usual. "The best place to look would be Rukongai. Unfortunately, I can't be much more specific than that."

Here, Rukia pulled out her sketchbook, while Ukitake continued to speak. "You see Orihime," Rukia flipped to the first page, which showed a crudely drawn diagram of Soul Society. Rukongai was divided in four, and color coded. "There are four sections of Rukongai: North, South, East, and West. Each of these sections has 80 districts, District 1 having the best quality of living and District 80 having the worst. That's 320 districts that you would have to thoroughly search through, one by one."

Now Rukia flipped to a new page, this one showing a row of small bears with numbers and either an S, W, N, or E over their heads. "When new souls enter the Soul Society, they are randomly assigned a District number and section to go to. There is no pattern at all to how the districts are assigned. In essence, Schiffer-san could be basically anywhere in Rukongai."

Orihime's face fell. It would take days just to search a few districts. Trying to do all of Rukongai would be nearly impossible. She only had a week off of school anyways.

Rukia had closed her sketchbook. Ukitake, however, kept speaking. "We do keep records of what districts souls are being assigned to on any given day in the Great Archives. It isn't completely specific since it doesn't list the names of the souls, or the exact districts each one went to. But if you can remember the day that Schiffer-san was purified, I can go back through the records and see which districts souls were being sent to on that day. There's a good chance you could find him that way."

Orihime's eyes brightened at the thought that she might actually find him. "Would you really do that for me…?"

Ukitake nodded, smiling. "However," he said, his face growing solemn. "I have to ask that you stay here until I get back. Yama-jii most likely won't welcome you with open arms. We should probably keep your stay here a secret."

Orihime nodded, determination once again shining in her eyes. "Thank you for your help, Ukitake-taicho."

"Any time," he said, and slid the door shut behind him.

Once outside the door, he smiled. Things might not work out perfectly for Orihime, but with that kind of determination, it was hard for them to go wrong.

_..._

Orihime had decided to search the South section first. Ukitake suggested bringing Rukia along, since the area they were searching was Districts 69-71. It wasn't the worst it could get, but it definitely wasn't safe for an unarmed girl to walk through alone, especially an unarmed girl with…assets like Orihime's.

After eating a heavy lunch to get them through the day, they set off. Rukia had been a huge help. She had been searching for any higher-than-normal reiatsu levels, as it was almost certain that Ulquiorra would retain fragments of his power. There were several in District 69, but none of them were who she was looking for, nor had they ever seen Ulquiorra in the vicinity.

Orihime couldn't help but marvel at how large each district was. They were like little self-contained states. And there were 320 of them!

"Wow, Rukongai is so much bigger than I thought!" Orihime said, her eyes glowing as she took in their surroundings.

"Well, it has to be," Rukia stated matter-of-factly. "We get souls from all over the world here. And even with 320 districts, Rukongai is still overcrowded, as you can see." They proceeded to push their way through a small mob of people watching a group of street performers.

After a few hours of pushing through the crowded, dirty streets, they came to the border of District 70. There wasn't any immediate change in the landscape; a small sign that stated they had crossed the border was the only indication that they had entered a new district. But as they neared the border of District 71, the houses got smaller and shabbier, the streets were in worse shape, and more homeless huddled in the alleys, playing with crudely carved dice to slowly pass the 60 years that were required before they could be reborn into a better place. They had only stopped at two houses (if you could call them that) so far in this district, even though they were almost out of it.

Rukia stopped. "There's one in this house," she said, pointing to a rickety tenement. "It's on the bottom floor."

Orihime gave the building a long look. _It's a good thing it's on the bottom floor, _she thought. _The last thing I'd want to do is climb those stairs…_

Rukia went up to the door, Orihime close behind her. They could hear loud arguing from inside. Rukia knocked twice, sharply.

Silence.

"Whoever you are, fuck off," came the rough, angry voice from inside.

"Open this door before I break it down," Rukia answered, using the angry voice she only reserved for really serious situations. This was followed by muttered cursing, and the sound of something smashing.

"Fine," the voice answered. The door was soon opened by a tall, very familiar man. With spiky blue hair. Rukia's breath caught.

Grimmjow grinned ferally, his eyes sparkling with the beginnings of bloodlust. "Well well, if it isn't the pipsqueak. How are ya, pipsqueak? Crawled back to finish our fight, have ya?" He caught sight of Orihime. His eyes widened a bit and the grin disappeared completely, only to come back full force. "And the Princess! Hey, Nnoitra, the Princess's here!" He leaned closer, savage blue eyes locking with hers. "What a nice surprise."

Grimmjow looked about the same, with the same hair and eyes and fangs and weird eye markings. Heck, his grin was even the same. Admittedly he did look a little strange dressed in the peasant clothes he was wearing, and his face was a little less intimidating without the broken mask he had once sported. Still, Orihime backed away from his stare.

She caught sight of Nnoitra, still partially hidden in the shadows. She saw the light glint in his single eye as he leered at her in a way that was too familiar. He was just as frightening, if not more, without the giant spoon behind his head. At least the spoon had given her a little something to laugh at whenever she saw him.

He grinned. "Welcome back, Pet-sama."

Rukia snapped out of it quickly. She moved in front of Orihime, shielding her from the men's leers. "We're not here to talk, or to fight. We just want to know if you've seen Ulquiorra in this area."

Nnoitra suppressed what sounded like a snort. Grimmjow just frowned. "That green-eyed bastard? Haven't seen him. It's a good thing too. If he was here, I would've ripped him to pieces by now. Why are ya looking for him anyways?" He grinned, already knowing the answer.

"That's none of your business." Rukia said, her eyes hard.

Grimmjow mocked offense. "Don't tell me you're still holding a grudge against me. You lived right? That's all that really matters." He shrugged. "If there's nothing else here you're interested in, then do us both a favor and fuck off."

At that moment, a Hell Butterfly landed on Rukia's finger. After it had whispered its message, it flew away. Rukia turned to Orihime. "I need to go. There's a mission I'm heading in the World of the Living. Do you think you can go the rest of the way yourself?"

Orihime was about to nod, when Grimmjow interjected, frowning. "Ya know, not everyone here is as…honorable as me." He paused, letting the full meaning of his words sink in, and gathering his strength for what he was about to say. Turning away from the pair, he sighed heavily, trying to sound irritated. "I'll take the Princess the rest of the way she needs to go."

Orihime smiled at him. "Thanks, Grimmjow-san," she said cheerfully.

Rukia gave him an even colder look than before. "No way. She isn't going with you. She'd be safer walking by herself than with you."

"No, it's fine! I don't mind walking with Grimmjow-san," Orihime said. "After all, you have a really important mission, so don't worry about me, I'll be fine!" She smiled as brightly as she could, trying to convince Rukia that she really would be.

Grimmjow just grinned. "Ya don't need to worry about the Princess. I'll beat the shit out of anyone who comes near her. After all, I still owe her one."

"He won't hurt me if he owes me a favor, really, he saved me once because I healed his arm," Orihime added.

Finally, Rukia agreed reluctantly that it was probably better for Orihime to travel with someone, even if that someone was Grimmjow Jagarjacques. She started back towards Sereitei after giving Orihime a map of Rukongai, leaving her alone with Grimmjow and Nnoitra.

Nnoitra snickered. "Getting a little soft, are we?"

Grimmjow elbowed him in the stomach, a dark look on his face. "Shut the fuck up, Eyepatch."

He started off down the road. Orihime hesitated, still standing by the door of the apartment.

"Are you coming or what?" Grimmjow snarled back to her, still walking towards the border.

She promptly ran after him.

**This is NOT a GrimmHime fic. Don't get that impression. **

***Gomen means sorry in Japanese. **

**No cliffhanger this time.**

**If nothing else, this has earned its T rating for Grimmjow's and Nnoitra's potty mouths. **

**If anybody is OOC even a little bit, tell me. **

**R&R please. People who review make my day. Not only that, they get chibi Ulquiorra plushies. And who wouldn't want a chibi Ulquiorra plushy? He's just so cute. ^^ Plus a sheet of bubble wrap absolutely free. XD **


	3. Favor

**Ya****yz! So, chibi Ulquiorra plushies and bubble wrap go to Ulquiarra, talkstoangels77, alanabanani, frawg360, kimichi, and soulspirit18 for reviewing chapter 2! -hands them out- **

**Thanks to all you people who reviewed both chapters! **

**Also, thank you to Sheiri, talkstoangels77, KyoxSakifan, Lady Krystalyn, summerrayah, rimahikoandamutofan, Ulquiarra, alanabanani, frawg360, Tozase-Murcielago, NoxUmbra and Coolyb for putting it on their alerts/favorites! **

**Wow, that's a lot of people. ^^ **

**If I had socks on, you guys would be rocking them. I really do love all your support. **

**Also, this story will be on hiatus for a week while I go to camp (i.e. no internet). I felt it fair to warn you. Grimmjow, take it away!**

**G: Why the fuck do I have to read this?**

**Me: Well, A, you have a shock collar on, B, I asked nicely, and C, I have some catnip for you if you do!**

**G: -eyes light up- 3R15UK0UM31 does not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

**Me: :D -tosses him the catnip- **

**G: -rolls around in it, purring happily-**

**Me: Enjoy the new chapter!**

**Favor**

They had passed an hour in silence, walking through the increasingly dirty streets. The sun was beating down on Orihime's hooded head; handing her a shapeless bundle of rough cloth, Grimmjow had gruffly commented that if her boobs didn't draw the attention of the scum that crawled through the streets in this district, her hair definitely would. The blue-haired man had maintained a limited ability to sense reiatsu, and so he ended up searching the surrounding area as Rukia had, looking for heightened reiatsu. He hadn't found anything yet. Even though the pair was on a crowded street, filled with begging urchins and street merchants advertising their wares, an awkward silence managed to stretch between them.

When Orihime finally spoke, her words were just a murmur compared to the noise of the busy district, but she felt that they carried under the din, as clear as if they had been spoken in silence. "…I didn't know you owed me a favor."

He was silent for so long that Orihime thought that maybe he hadn't heard her. Finally, without looking down at her, he shrugged. "Ya let me die, instead of healing me so I'd have to spend another century fighting under that crazy fucker who thought he was a god." He gave her a weighted look before turning away again. He hesitated, and his voice came out sounding labored, like it was really an effort to say what he was. "If nothing else, I'm…grateful for that. I know ya probably would've healed me if ya weren't so focused on Kurosaki." He snorted. "For once, I was glad the damn Strawberry was there."

Orihime was silent for a while after this. She looked up at the flawlessly blue sky, and down at the dry cracked roadbed, and all around at the dilapidated storefronts and crumbling tenements. She piped up again, her tone cautiously curious. "Do you miss life in Las Noches?"

"Nah," he said. "Not that I really remember much of it. It's all…hazy now. The longer I'm here, the more I forget. It's just day to day survival, brawling over the smallest things, partying all night, sleeping during the day, trying to hold on to the little we have…" He laughed, somewhat bitterly, and ran a hand through his wild hair. "Not that there's a lot I'd _want_ to remember from that godforsaken place. All I remember is how I died. And even that's getting fuzzy."

"Oh…That's kind of sad, that you're forgetting everything. Even if it wasn't the best time you've ever had, isn't it still frustrating not to be able to remember?"

He gave her a heavy look that burned deeply as if lit by long-suppressed rage. "Do _you _like remembering Las Noches?" His voice cracked slightly; for the first time she noticed how young he looked. She turned her eyes to the thirsty ground and was silent. "I thought not."

After a few more moments of silence, Grimmjow let out a breath, grinned, and looked over at her. "So you're finally going after him, huh?"

Orihime looked up. "…Huh?"

Grimmjow's grin just widened. "It was completely obvious to everyone, ya know. We had bets going on how long it would take you and Ulquiorra to hook up. I'm surprised it took ya this long."

Orihime turned bright red. "We're not…hooking up…" she protested meekly, turning even redder.

"Ya know, if it makes ya feel any better, he's completely head-over-heels for you too."

Orihime looked at him. "Really…?"

He laughed. "Definitely! It was hard to miss. Of course, _you_ didn't have to hang around him for three hours every day during those stupid meetings, so maybe ya could've missed it. Ya could take one look at him during those meetings and see he was in his own dark little world."

Orihime looked ahead again, smiling, her heart swelling at the thought.

"Hey! Stop grinning and move. I'd like to get ya through this district before the sun sets..."

She just smiled and nodded, pulling her hood tighter over her bright hair, and followed him the rest of the way through the district.

...

"Bye, Grimmjow-san!" She waved cheerfully.

He grinned in his usual feral way, his hand coming up in a brief farewell. "Seeya, Princess." He turned and began the long walk back to his own district. He turned his eyes to the moon and wondered, for the first time in a long while, what would become of him, what would happen when the shit really hit the fan. After all, he couldn't stay hidden forever…The midnight breeze carried the sounds of fighting and drinking and the smell of smoke, and it cleansed his mind of these thoughts, filling him with the desire to join in the festivities.

The inn that Orihime was to stay the night in was actually in the section of Rukongai that she needed to search next. Apparently, Grimmjow had some sort of…connection with the female innkeeper. At any rate, it was dark now, about midnight, and after a long day of walking she was ready for sleep.

Her head felt fuzzy. After paying for a room for the night with the money Rukia had left her, she ate a little food, not even noticing how bland it was, and dragged herself to her room. She curled up on the futon and was instantly asleep.

As usual, her dreams were centered on her green-eyed former captor. A few scenes from her captivity, and finally his death played through her dreams. Usually, she would wake up after this. But not this time.

The scenery changed dramatically. No longer was she on top of the dome of Las Noches surrounded by endless night. Instead she was flying, and the scenery below was nondescript enough to be anywhere in the world. She felt herself plummeting towards the forest below. She fully expected to crash into the branches, but instead she fell through them, her descent slowing as she reached the ground. She didn't know where she was, but she saw the brown tint in the sky that signaled a city. She walked towards the light and eventually did stumble across a city, one she recognized immediately. It was a city about 30 miles north of Karakura town; she visited a friend there occasionally. She felt her vision zoom in and focus, even though she didn't move an inch. She saw a slim figure with a chain coming out of its chest resting on a deserted park bench. It had messy black hair.

The vision faded too quickly for her to be able to make anything else out; it was fading into white.

She opened her eyes to see the sun was already high in the sky. It was probably about 10 in the morning. She got up and smoothed the wrinkles out of the shinigami robes Rukia had given her. Her hair felt sticky; what she really wanted was a bath. She promised herself that wherever she stayed at next, she would find a way to take a bath or shower or at least wash her hair. Sighing, she took a few deep breaths before grabbing the map of Rukongai and setting out for the day.

According to the map, she was in West District 44. She was checking 44 through 46 today. She figured that she'd have to just go door to door today, since she didn't have the help of Rukia or a former Espada.

The sun was bright and hot, reminding her that summer was on its way. She pulled her hood over her head, not only to protect herself from the sun, but also to shield herself from the notice of a group of men sitting in the shade nearby; they seemed preoccupied with their dice games for now.

The streets weren't nearly as crowded here, nor were they as dirty. In fact, they were even paved with smooth cobblestones. She bought breakfast at a small stand and walked along the street, eating it happily.

She asked a few people if they had seen Ulquiorra, and described him to them, but she still had no luck. She sat on a bench on the side of the road and let her hood slip off her head for a moment. It sure was hot… she watched the people going about their business. There were a few interesting stands she saw, maybe she would do some shopping…It was just now lunch time after all, she should have enough time-

"Ah, Orihime! What surprise to see you here!"

She turned towards the voice. It wasn't familiar… She saw a man with strange pink hair and glasses approaching her. Who was he?

He obviously noticed her confusion. "Oh, forgive me. We were never properly introduced to each other." He ran a hand through his hair as his amber eyes met hers. "Szayel Aporro-Grantz. Former Octava Espada, I believe."

Realization dawned on Orihime. This was the mad scientist that Uryu and Renji had told her about. He didn't seem mad to her. In fact, he seemed more civil than a lot of people she had talked to that day.

"May I ask what has brought you here? You seem to have some task in mind."

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "By any chance, have you seen Ulquiorra around? I'm trying to find him, but I haven't gotten any leads yet…"

Szayel sighed. "No, I haven't seen him, although I can't say I'm too disappointed. He never was the most interesting person to talk to. All doom and gloom." His eyes held a knowing glint as he asked, "Why would you be interested in finding him?"

Orihime blushed slightly, looking at the ground. "Oh, no reason really…" she mumbled unconvincingly.

"Oh, that's disappointing. You know, we had a bet going on how long it would take you two to get together. I'm afraid to say I lost." He sighed again before smiling. "Although, if we find him, I may just have to take that bet up again with Grimmjow…"

"We…?" Orihime asked. "Are you really going to help me find him?"

"Of course! Grimmjow has to give up catnip for a month if I win. Believe it or not, he still loves it." He gave her a sidelong glance before continuing. "I'm fairly certain he isn't in this district or the next. I frequent both of them, and I'm sure I would have seen him if he were in either district. No matter how reclusive he may be now."

"Ok, well, that still leaves District 46 that I need to check…" Orihime unrolled the map, trying to find the fastest way to the district.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, don't bother with that. I have a much faster way to get there." He walked off and turned down an alleyway, Orihime staying close behind him.

The next 30 minutes were a maze of alleyways and back roads. Orihime found that Szayel enjoyed conversation much more than Grimmjow, and so she made every attempt to keep one up.

"It's funny," she finally said. "Renji and Uryu portrayed you as this ruthless mad scientist. But you don't really seem like that anymore…"

"Renji and Uryu….Oh! The dimwitted bankai user and the Quincy. Yes, they were particularly interesting subjects. Especially the Quincy. It's a pity Soul Society killed so many of them off, they really are fascinating." He gave her another sideways look. "You would have been a fascinating specimen if Aizen-sama would have let me run some tests. Now however, I can see that Soul Society has stripped you of your powers. I wonder if there's a way to restore them…" The rest of their journey was spent in silence while Szayel pondered this new idea and Orihime debated whether to run away as soon as possible or not.

...

They had reached District 46 quickly, and after searching it quietly and effectively, concluded Ulquiorra wasn't there either.

Szayel was still unusually quiet as he guided her to North District 19. The sun hadn't set yet when they reached it, but the heat and light of the day were beginning to fade. Szayel finally took a break from his musings. "Stark, the former Primera Espada, lives in that house over there," he said, pointing it out. "I think you'll like him. And I know he'd like some company. He's been very…lonely since he doesn't have Lilinette anymore." He turned and was about to head back. "I will inform you immediately if I find a way to restore your powers. As long as you consent to a few tests…" And with that, he left, muttering quietly to himself.

Orihime walked the rest of the way to the house. It was quite nice; it looked like it had 7 or 8 rooms and its own yard with several trees and a small rock garden in it, unlike the crowded apartments and city houses she was used to seeing. After all, this was District 19 now, it made sense it would be much nicer than District 70 or 44.

She walked along the stone path that led to the door. She knocked once, quietly, and waited for someone to answer the door.

She waited. And waited. She was about to knock again when the door opened a crack and a voice rough with sleep called out "Who's there?"

"Inoue Orihime," she said, even though he could see her perfectly fine. The former Primera opened the door fully, looking nothing short of astounded.

"Inoue. Come in, please." She complied, taking her dusty shoes off before stepping into the main room of his house. He lit a couple of lamps and looked her over. He looked more awake now, although his gray eyes still looked tired. Fatigued, experienced, and bored with the world. He was a man who had lived his life, and now could find no new experience to keep him going. "What brings you here, to my home?"

"Well, I was walking with Szayel, and he suggested I come over here and see you, since you were in the area of Rukongai that I was searching next – I'm looking for Ulquiorra, by the way, have you seen him?"

If Stark was at all flustered or confused by her rapid response he didn't show it. "Ulquiorra? No, I haven't seen him. But I don't really go outside much, so you shouldn't take that to mean he isn't here at all. Would you like some sake, perhaps?"

Orihime smiled. "Ah, no thank you, I probably shouldn't. But I am pretty thirsty after all that walking…Do you have any green tea?"

"Sure, I'll make some tea if you'd like." He looked her over once, his sleepy-looking gray eyes scanning her in an almost curious way. "I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Coyote Stark. You might know me better as the former Primera Espada." He paused again.

She ran her fingers through her hair, reminded again of how dirty it was. And now she was sweaty and dusty to boot…

He seemed to notice her discomfort, or maybe he saw the way her hair was hanging limp. "There's a bathroom down the hall on the right if you want to wash up. I'll have some food ready by the time you're done."

She was about to object that she wasn't hungry, when her stomach growled, reminding her that she had missed lunch. She laughed nervously. "I guess I am a little hungry too." She saw the ghost of a smile appear on his face before he turned and left for what she assumed was the kitchen. She waited a few moments before she walked down the hall to the bathroom.

It was divided into two sections: a small tiled shower area to rinse yourself off, and then a large bath in a room of its own to soak in.

She undressed quickly and enjoyed the feeling of the warm water washing away the dirt and sweat.

But it was nothing compared to the hot bath in the next room. She felt all the tenseness work out of her muscles, and for the first time since she had gotten there, she relaxed and let herself believe that everything really would be okay.

She dressed in a clean yukata she found lying outside the bathroom door. It was a pale green, decorated with a crane pattern. She wondered why Stark would keep something like it, as if he always expected visitors.

She walked back into the main room, the wood floors cool against her tired feet. The table was set for two, with two bowls of rice, miso soup, and some assorted meats and vegetables as side dishes.

She sat on the cushion. She saw that he had poured her some tea as well; it smelled minty and refreshing.

Her host sat across from her, already eating. "So…" he said, swallowing a bite of rice. "You've come looking for Ulquiorra, eh? He always was an interesting kid." His eyes slid up from his food to meet hers. "There were a lot of rumors floating around about you two. If you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you feel for him? It must be something if you've come all this way to find him."

She fought back a blush as she considered the question. "Well…" she answered slowly. "I know I care about him a lot. And I know he at least cares enough about me that he didn't ever try to hurt me while I was in Las Noches."

Stark nodded as if that answered all his questions and, to her relief, didn't probe any further. Instead he asked her about more trivial things: how was that captain of the 8th doing anyways? And the one from the 13th? What was the weather like in the World of the Living? Just small talk. She was grateful not to have to think.

She finished her meal. "Thank you very much for all your generosity, Stark-san," she said. "But I would hate to impose. I'll leave now and find an inn somewhere to stay for tonight…"

Stark seemed reluctant, but he finally answered. "Well, I wish you luck on your search then."

Orihime wondered at why he seemed so unhappy to see her leaving. She remembered something Szayel had said…Something about Stark being very lonely since Lilinette (whoever that was) had left. And he had shown so much generosity to her. She decided that it was the least she could do to stay.

"If you have room here, I'll stay. As long as it's no trouble, I mean!" she added quickly.

Even though his expression was as apathetic as usual, she saw his eyes light up. "There's a guest bedroom next to the bathroom you could stay in."

She stood and bowed, thanking him again before she went to the room he had mentioned, lay down on the futon, and fell asleep.

**A yukata is a light robe sort of like a bathrobe that's worn in the summer. Inns and hot springs often provide them for their guests. **

**Again, I enjoy knowing if anyone seemed OOC. :/ Please tell me. **

**R&R please! **

**This time, reviewers get a box that contains an infinite supply of paint-filled balloons. Or sparkly-confetti-filled balloons. Your choice. ^^**


	4. Hope

**OMG, You guys would be rocking my socks if I was wearing any. **

**Summer is barefoot time. ;P **

**But seriously, I come back and my inbox is filled with alerts. ^^ I wish I could've gotten this chapter out sooner, just to show how much I appreciate the feedback this story is getting. **

**Also, I noticed that Fanfiction had destroyed the time breaks I put in previous chapters. I'm sorry for any confusion this could have caused. They've been replaced now, I think, and I used periods instead of dashes. Tell me in your reviews if they still don't show up, please. Thank you…-hits Fanfiction- **

**If you see any Japanese characters or words you don't know, scroll to the bottom of the page. Doubtless, they'll be there. **

**Paint/glitter filled balloons go to: alanabanani, soulspirit18, A person, Tozase-Murcielago, kimichi, Sue Axel, Sheiri, Deviltrigger Dante, and yellowbricks for reviewing. :D -hands out various balloons-**

**My thanks go to: beachgurlkatie98, Maaiikee, wutai flea (whose stories I love), NotaRealPenName, GeneralCuster, Angel Peace, Headphone-bunny, and Sempi-Is-An-Angel for favoriting/alerting. ^-^ **

**The list keeps getting longer. ^^ **

**Stark, read our disclaimer. **

**S: -asleep-**

**Me: ^^" Stark, you're a main character in this chapter, you need to wake up…**

**S: -not caring, still asleep- **

**Me: -kicks him- WAKE UP AND READ THE FREAKING DISCLAIMER. **

**S: -blinks- Ok…3R15UK0UM31 does not own Bleach…or…any…-asleep again-**

**Me: -sigh- Enjoy the new chapter. **

**Hope**

Her mind felt hazy and clouded; she couldn't see very well. All she could tell was that she was walking along the side of a road and it was nighttime; the sky ahead of her was that odd brown color that city lights made when they shone on the clouds.

She tried to see what she felt was pulling her along. It was like there was a chain on her chest, pulling her along towards some unknown destination. Something was calling to her…

She was confused; she knew she was going somewhere, somewhere important. Something kept drawing her towards that place and she couldn't stop, even though her feet hurt and she was tired and starting to get hungry. She heard a faint clinking as she walked, and saw jet black locks swishing around in the corners of her vision.

She wasn't sure how much farther she could go, she was really really tired, but that thing kept pulling her. It told her to keep moving and she found she couldn't deny it. There was somewhere she had to go, someone she had to find. She didn't know who it was, but it was someone she felt like she should know. The name was on the tip of her tongue…

Orihime woke with a start, her own name on her lips. She had a brief moment of hysteria where she wondered where the road had gone. Slowly, she remembered where she was, and how she had gotten there.

Orihime was quite used to having odd dreams, and often even horrific nightmares. Especially after the end of the war. But this went beyond strange. It was like she was someone else entirely in the dream. She wasn't sure she'd ever had that happen before…

She cleared away the last few cobwebs in her head with a huge yawn and some stretching. After brushing the wrinkles out of the yukata she had slept in, she walked down the hallway and into the main room, only to find that her host wasn't there.

Assuming he was still asleep, she walked quietly back down the hallway, poking her nose into rooms as she went.

She slid open the door of the first room. It was bare except for a scroll on the wall and a low table. A scroll was stretched out across the table, calligraphy scattered across it almost randomly, aimless and disorganized. It might have been poetry. Sun streamed in through a high window. Dust motes floated through the light, seeming trapped by the golden sunbeams, frozen in time. Silvery smoke curled up from two sticks of incense, sitting in their holders at either end of the table. The other scroll hung, solitary, on the wall. There were only a few characters written on it, stark black against snowy white: リリネット

She closed the door silently.

The next room was mostly filled by a fluffy, white, Western-style bed. It was covered in plushy, white cushions, and a white cotton blanket perched at the edge of the bed, looking as if it might fall off at any moment. This room had a window too, but it was covered over by thick white curtains. So much white…

She closed that door as well. That room was obviously Stark's bedroom, but if he wasn't sleeping, where was he…?

She returned to the main room and settled on a pile of cushions, watching the sun streaming in through the windows. She guessed it was about eight o'clock.

The haziness was returning. Her dream had left her feeling as exhausted as if she hadn't slept at all. She let her eyes slip shut as her mind wandered into a dim whitish world of half-sleep.

…

The sound of footsteps woke her up. She rubbed her eyes and ran her fingers through her messy hair. Stark had returned, carrying a small bag. He set it on the table they had eaten at before. "I knew you'd probably want something to eat. I don't really have anything here for breakfast, since I usually just skip it." He rubbed his eyes. There were dark circles under them.

She gave him an equally weary look before opening the bag and catching the scent of freshly baked pastries. "Oh, wow, I didn't know they sold stuff like this in Soul Society!" she exclaimed, brightening instantly.

Stark shrugged. "There are souls from all over here, there's bound to be food from all over too." His words were cut off abruptly by a huge yawn. Orihime realized he had probably gotten up early to get breakfast for her. Or maybe he hadn't slept well and had decided that since he was already up, he might as well.

Orihime had already finished an apple turnover. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until Stark had brought the pastries in. He sat across from her at the table and watched as she ate.

His stare wasn't like the looks most men gave her. There wasn't any lust, or even any real caring in his eyes. But behind the lethargy, she could see a thinly veiled excitement, as though it was thrilling just to have her around.

She was itching to ask him about the room with the scrolls, but just going in there she had felt as if she was disrupting something deeply personal and possibly intimate. It wasn't really her business anyway.

She ate another pastry.

He spoke up again, and if anything sounded more tired than ever. "There aren't as many houses in these districts. It should be a lot easier for you to search around. Everyone knows each other here," he added, almost as an afterthought. He yawned again.

She nodded. She finished the pastries quickly and walked back to her room, where she changed back into her original clothes. They had been washed, and still smelled faintly of hand-made soap. Her hood had disappeared somewhere along the way. She left the yukata folded on the futon.

She came back into the main room and bowed again, her hair falling in heavy orange waves around her face, unrestricted by the hair pins she used to wear. "Thank you very much for everything, Stark-san."

He smiled, barely, before replying in his usual lethargic way. "It was no trouble, Inoue-san. If you find Ulquiorra, be sure to come back with him and visit some time. He may have changed for the better."

She smiled brightly. "I will. Goodbye!" She waved cheerfully before heading out the door.

Stark leaned against the doorframe, the shadow of a smile still on his face. He waved to her back. "Goodbye." _I do hope she comes back. Such a lively girl…_

He turned tired eyes to the sky, and for a moment, warmth lit in them. _I think you would have liked her, Lilinette. If things had been different…_

He turned and silently went back inside his empty home, heading for the scroll room, and feeling the loneliness overtaking him again with every echoing footstep.

…

She had been to every house in the North 19th, and every house in the 20th and 21st as well. Everyone had had the same answer. Some had looked confused, some had looks of pity, some had been downright rude. And all of them seemed to say "You won't find him." It was as if they were _trying_ to discourage her.

Well, if they'd been trying, they had succeeded. It was about 5 o'clock. The sky was just taking on the golden tones of a clear evening in early summertime. Birds chirped happily back and forth.

While Orihime would have normally wondered absentmindedly what they were talking about, today she simply pulled her knees to her chest and, resting her head on them, tried to chase the shadows out of her heart.

It was her fourth day in Soul Society. She had left that first day right after school and spent the night in the 13th division. The second day she had searched with Rukia and Grimmjow, and then the third day she had searched with Szayel. And now, at the end of the fourth day, her spirits were sinking with the sun.

She only had a week. She had checked almost every district he could possibly be in. There were only 3 left, and the chances she would find him there were slim and none. She remembered her last talk with Ukitake before she had left to search…

"_Inoue-san, I checked the enrollment records in the Great Archives. There is no one enrolled in the Shinigami Academy by the name of Ulquiorra Schiffer. No one with that name has graduated from the Academy either. I'm afraid he isn't among our ranks. If he isn't here…" He let it trail off. Orihime understood. If he wasn't there, and he wasn't in the Rukongai, there was absolutely no telling where he was. And therefore, it would be impossible to find him. _

A light breeze stirred her hair and helped to fend off the heat of the sun. Up until now, she had held onto the hope that she would be able to find him, despite the odds. She could feel that hope draining away slowly, like fading sunlight.

_I should just go home…go home and enjoy the rest of my holiday and then go back to school and everything will be normal again. No Ulquiorra, no "woman", no prisoners or wars or killing, just me and my friends talking about lunch and the exams coming up and…_

The tears flowed freely down her face as she choked back her sobs. It was impossible. Somehow, their lives had become twisted together. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be dead, because if he was dead, she felt that some part of her would have gone with him. They had become too closely intertwined, like a tree growing into a cliff face. When the tree dies and falls, it takes a part of the cliff with it, leaving a permanent reminder of itself in the emptiness where rock should be. He just couldn't be dead.

She raised her eyes, just catching the last glimpse of the sun before it set completely. She wiped her eyes and sniffled a bit. Her throat felt tight and dry and swollen like it always did after she cried. She was having trouble swallowing. Her whole body ached, and she could feel the sunburn on her cheeks worsening. Her stomach was growling, demanding food. And yet, she felt lighter, and even smiled a little as the light faded from the sky.

She set off briskly in the opposite direction of the sunset, still wiping her eyes and sniffling occasionally.

She had a long way to go before morning.

…

A solitary figure sat by a similar river in Karakura Town, watching the water flow by. The grass was soft and whispered in the light summer breeze. Even though the sun had set, light still lingered in the west, and the first stars had yet to show up in the sky.

The figure dabbled elegant fingers in the water absentmindedly. It had taken him days to get to that particular spot by the river. Something had pulled him there, despite his fatigue and growing hunger, and despite the rapidly shortening chain hanging from his chest.

He turned his eyes to the sky, as if begging them for an answer. Faint sunlight gleamed for a moment in his viridian eyes, hazy with exhaustion, before he closed them slowly and lay down on the grass, letting sleep take him.

…

Orihime's dreams had been filled with rivers and starlight and soft green grass. She was grateful for the change from the more disturbing dreams she'd been having recently. She felt pure, refreshed, and hopeful.

Today, her fifth day in Soul Society, she was getting an early start. She was searching East Districts 30, 31, and 32.

She was now walking down the main street in East District 30, munching happily on a slice of melon. A fruit vendor had offered her a sample, and she had ended up buying four slices. It was alright, she had needed breakfast anyways. But her money was running dangerously low. _No more buying things you don't really need, Orihime_, she chided herself, glowering childishly.

The sounds of loud arguing distracted her from her inner conversation. Strangely, no one else on the street was taking notice. Was this normal…?

Since there was no crowd, Orihime could clearly see the two women standing in front of a weapons store. (She had noticed that most stores were actually in buildings here instead of in stalls, like the higher districts.) One was very tall and busty, with bronze skin and brown, wavy hair held back by a tiara. She was arguing animatedly with a much smaller, pale girl with short black hair and a ring of red makeup around her left eye. It was almost comical, watching them argue.

"Mila Rose, you promised you'd bring food for _all_ of us! You're fat enough already, you don't need all that food, gimme some!" The shorter woman struggled to reach the package of food the taller woman (Mila Rose?) was carrying.

She scoffed. "You never said anything like that Apache! I remember getting you breakfast for the last week, and yesterday you promised it would be the last time. Get your own food!" Still holding the package tauntingly above Apache's head, Mila Rose began eating, smirking victoriously.

"I never promised you anything like that! We're a team, and teams have to share!" Apache was still struggling to reach the box of food.

A thin girl with long greenish hair and wearing a long white dress suddenly walked out of the store. She stepped between the arguing women, holding Apache back with a sleeve-covered hand while the other sleeve was held up to cover her face.

"Stop it, both of you," she said coolly, obviously not one to waste words. She faced Mila Rose. "Share your food for today, but" Here she turned back to face Apache. "You should start providing for yourself. Now both of you get inside. Halibel-sama is tired of your arguing." Without another word, she turned and went back inside. The two remaining women glared at each other before angrily muttering something that sounded vaguely like "Sun-sun". They went inside as well.

Throughout the whole encounter, they had failed to notice Orihime looking on. _Halibel…that name seems very familiar…_ She threw away the remainders of her breakfast before stepping inside the shop.

It was cool and dark, and the walls were lined with an interesting selection of very finely crafted weapons. The green-haired woman from earlier was behind the counter. She gave Orihime a cool gaze before saying, "Would you like to see Halibel-sama?"

Orihime hesitated a moment before nodding. The woman turned and went into the back of the store. Now, in the silence, Orihime could still hear the faint arguing of Mila Rose and Apache in the back room. Suddenly, they stopped.

A new woman came into the main room of the shop, tall and tanned, with gleaming teal eyes and a face mostly hidden behind the high collar of her shirt. Her eyes widened for a moment in what Orihime correctly guessed was recognition. She closed her eyes slowly and dipped her head, before addressing Orihime coolly and formally: "Ohayougozaimasu, shuujin-sama."

**Ohayougozaimasu is a very formal way to say good morning. Shuujin is a prisoner, and –sama is a suffix that denotes great respect. -san is a suffix that denotes a medium respect, akin to Mr. or Mrs. in English. **

**The kana written on the scroll, if you didn't guess, read "Ririnetto"; the Japanese way to spell Lilinette. **

**Remember what a yukata is? I'll give a refresher: It's a light cotton kimono worn in the summer, almost like a bathrobe. **

**I chose the East Districts to be last, because the East is where the sun rises, and it kinda symbolizes Orihime's renewal of hope. I guess. -shrug- Something like that. :D **

**Has anyone figured out her dreams yet? I sincerely hope so, I dropped massive hints. **

**R&R please. Reviewers get a lifetime supply of ultra stretchy rubber bands, paper clips, and duct tape. (C'mon, office supplies are the bomb! You can get into a **_**lot **_**of trouble with just those three things XD)**


	5. Hollow

**Yay, chapter 5! I'm really proud of myself for coming this far. And I'm really happy that you guys keep reviewing and favoriting! It really helps to keep me motivated. More reviews means faster updates, guys. **

**Ack, that kinda sounded like a threat…^^" **

**Anyways, super fun office supplies go to Ino1693 (you'll like this chapter), alanabanani (I do watch Mythbusters), summerrayah, soulspirit18, frawg360, kimichi (you'll think of something), Deviltrigger Dante, and Tozase-Murcielago (Don't throw anything more at me please). -hands them out-**

**Thanks also to stranger109, Satsuki312 (I'm so proud of you, nee-san), Dhampirangel, andre-95, soulspirit18, and Rem-Rei (Res-Rei-Rei-Rem-Re…?) for alerting/favoriting. I'd love to see you guys review in the future. :D **

**It's very easy to get a lot of simple joy out of a staple remover. Have you ever really looked at them? They look like jaws. With really pointy teeth. **

…**You can tell I've been working in an office all week, can't you? XD Paperclips and rubber bands are fun too. Don't you agree, Halibel? **

**H: …**

**Me: Eh…just read the disclaimer please. **

**H: -nods- 3R15UK0UM31 does not own Bleach or any of its characters; they belong to Kubo-sensei, master of creating plot holes that are easy to poke fun at…Is all of this usually in a disclaimer?**

**Me: Heh-heh….No one saw that right? ^^" Don't tell Kubo-sensei, or he might never bring Ulqui-kun back. Anyways, enjoy the chapter!**

**Cavus: Hollow**

Halibel had listened silently as Orihime told her story, never commenting or even looking away from Orihime's face. They were sitting in the back room of the shop; a cup of tea steamed on the table in front of Orihime.

"…So then I stayed at Stark's house for a while, and I found out that people actually sell pastries in Soul Society! I never knew that they had any other kind of food besides Japanese here. I guess when new souls come in, they must update everyone else about what's happening in the World of the Living…I'm really starting to worry that I may not find Ulquiorra here at all. He hasn't been anywhere I've looked so far, but I still think I'll find him, I just have the strangest feeling that he isn't here, you know? Like when-"

"I can tell you for certain that he isn't living in this district," Halibel cut in. Orihime waited for her to continue, maybe say how she knew that, but she had immediately fallen silent.

Orihime took a sip of her tea, trying to somehow ease the silence. _This tea is really good, _she reflected. _I wonder who made it… _"So, you, um, own a weapons store now, Halibel-san?"

She nodded. "I make all the weapons I sell; mostly short swords and knives. Take a look around if you like, Inoue-san."

Well, at least she wasn't "shuujin-sama" anymore. "Thank you, but I need to be moving on as quickly as possible." _I only have a couple more days to look…_

Halibel dipped her head slightly. "That's understandable. Perhaps I could offer you my assistance? I'm sure your search will go much faster that way."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that for me, I mean-"

Halibel looked up, her aqua gaze almost piercing. "I insist. My fraccion can manage the store. You aren't inconveniencing me by accepting my help."

Orihime shrank back a little and laughed nervously. "Alright, if you really want to help…"

"We should start searching as soon as possible," she said, standing. She walked out of the room silently.

Orihime looked at the tea sadly. _So good…_ She quickly drank the rest before following Halibel out of the store.

….

The silence was almost unnerving.

They had been walking for almost an hour, but they hadn't reached the border of District 31 yet. Halibel made no attempts to start a conversation. And yet…it almost seemed as if she were working herself up to ask Orihime something.

Finally, without looking away from the road in front of her, she asked, "How was Stark when you saw him?"

Orihime considered the question for a moment. "Well," she began. "I didn't really know him before. He seemed really tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't really been sleeping much. He also seemed kinda sad to me, but maybe that's normal."

Halibel still wasn't looking at her. Orihime couldn't see her eyes, and her expression was mostly hidden by the collar of her jacket. However, her steps faltered slightly. "Did he seem like he had been getting enough to eat?"

"I don't really know…he didn't look starved but he told me he usually skips breakfast." Orihime shrugged. "I thought maybe he usually slept in, and that's why he didn't eat anything for breakfast."

Halibel closed her eyes briefly in something longer than a standard blink. Her voice was soft when she spoke again. "I know he was very upset by Lilinette's disappearance. He wouldn't eat or sleep. He did even less than he does now. He would just lie in bed with a blank look on his face for days."

Orihime looked at Halibel closely before looking at the ground again. "Who is Lilinette…? I know Szayel mentioned her." She didn't mention the scroll room. "They must have been pretty close for her…disappearance to affect him like that," she said, almost hesitantly, not really sure what had happened to Lilinette.

Halibel was still looking straight ahead, impassive as ever as far as Orihime could see. "Lilinette was Stark's only fraccion. He had created her from a piece of his own soul. They were two halves of one being. And when one half is lost, it leaves the other dangerously incomplete and unbalanced." Here her face softened a bit in what could be seen as sadness, and her voice held a hint of compassion. "For some reason, she never made it to Soul Society."

_No wonder Stark was so devastated…he's lost a part of himself that he may never get back,_ Orihime thought sadly. "If she isn't in Soul Society, where could she be…?"

Halibel's voice went hard and toneless. "The Dangai Precipice World. And those few unfortunate souls who were swept into the Precipice World have never made it out."

"That's terrible! Why did she get sent to a place like that?" Orihime couldn't imagine a worse punishment for an innocent soul than being confined forever in the darkness, knowing they would never escape.

"The Precipice World is not a place you get sent to. It's where you land if you leave the path in a Garganta or Senkaimon," Halibel said, finally turning her head to look at the younger woman.

Orihime shuddered. She had always vaguely wondered what would happen if someone left the reiatsu paths that Shinigami and Arrancar used to travel between the dimensions. Now she knew.

Halibel's look could almost be described as soft, even caring as she spoke again. "Inoue-san…it isn't entirely impossible that Ulquiorra may have lost his footing in the tunnels somewhere-"

"Thank you for your concern, Halibel-san," Orihime cut in. "But if Ulquiorra was gone, I would know." She kept her eyes locked with the older woman's.

Finally, Halibel looked away, focusing once more on the road in front of them. Quietly, she said "I know you would."

…..

"I'm sorry Orihime. It doesn't appear that Ulquiorra is in these districts," Halibel said. She carefully avoided stating he was gone, but it nevertheless hung heavy in the air, affecting the pair more by being left unsaid.

Orihime was silent, her gaze fixed on the cobblestones beneath her feet as if they were the most fascinating things she had ever seen. The bits of her features that Halibel could see were tense, but impassive.

"Are you sure there wasn't any error on the taicho's part? He could have looked up the wrong date or-"

"Halibel-san," Orihime interrupted. There was a moment of tense silence before Orihime looked up, smiling a painfully empty smile that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. "Ukitake-taicho knows his way around the archives. He found the right day. After all, I've seen many of the Espada, and you all died close to each other right? So it makes sense." Her false bubbly tone fell flat at the end of the sentence, but she still smiled that big, silly, fatuous, hollow smile. She bowed, deeper and longer than usual. "Thank you, Halibel-san, for helping me search. I'm going to head home now, I guess…" She straightened. She was no longer smiling. The mask was crumbling quickly. "Goodbye!"

She practically sprinted away, not giving the former Espada a chance to speak again. She felt empty inside. Empty and cold.

She ran behind a building and sank slowly to the ground, her back pressed securely against the wall. She fixed her eyes on the sunset; it was gorgeous. It was like it was mocking her with its brightness and beauty, like it was saying _Look at me, I'm what you could be!_

She didn't feel like crying. Not yet. That would come later. She knew; she was already acquainted with that sudden stabbing despair that came from holding onto her foolish hopes.

She felt the sinking feeling begin in her chest, like a black hole, creeping down into the center of her being and pulling everything that she was with it. It felt cold and heavy and incredibly dense as it sunk into the pit of her stomach and rested there, holding her rooted to the ground with the weight of her own emotions.

Suddenly, she felt like she wanted to scream as loud as she could, so loud that all of Soul Society and even the World of the Living could hear her. Anything to purge that darkness from her, to dispel the weight on her chest and let her breathe deeply again, take in the fresh evening air and cleanse herself...

Her mind was running in endless circles, _He can't be dead, he can't be dead, he can't be dead, he can't…_

_It's like the dome all over again, _she thought bitterly.

That did it; finally the tears came like she wanted them to. They poured out endlessly, in twin streaks down either side of her face. She grimaced inwardly at the cruel irony. She stifled her sobs with a hand, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, closing her off from the world. The tears continued to pour forth with a vengeance, taking some of her grief and anger and pain with them. She wouldn't be surprised to look in a mirror and see all her color flowing away with her tears, dyeing her monochrome, staining her cheeks with veins of vibrant color…

But she knew; she knew she would just see herself, 18 years old, disheveled and somewhat dirty from a day of searching in the heat of a summer afternoon, her face blotchy and sticky from the incessantly flowing tears.

A wave of guilt swept over her. If she had come just a little bit earlier, might he have been here, waiting for her in Rukongai? Had he ever even come to Rukongai? Could she have protected him from Kurosaki-kun, in the fight on the dome? Even a little? Just so he wouldn't have been as badly hurt. A little voice in her head murmured, _but then Kurosaki-kun would have died_; logic had deserted her though, and she only felt waves of self-loathing. _This whole time, this whole two years, I've just been sitting at home, trying to act like nothing had ever happened…Not trying to do anything about it. I just wanted my normal life back, without all this pain, and where I didn't have to worry about my friends getting hurt or dying, or even going away for longer than a week…_

These were pointless things to worry about, she knew. Thinking like that would only upset her more.

Somewhere inside of her, she found the strength necessary to stand up. Her legs felt weak as water; they trembled under her weight. She rubbed her eyes on her already grubby sleeves. They still burned, and her sight was a little blurry. But she no longer felt like there was a black hole sitting in the pit of her stomach, weighing her down. It was more like a ball of lead now, cold and hard. She felt drained and burnt out.

She locked the pain away, knowing it would pop up again sooner rather than later. _But right now,_ she thought, _I need to get back into Sereitei. I'm sure Ukitake-taicho has arranged for a way to get me home. _

…..

Orihime stared at the ceiling and sighed heavily. Another night spent in Soul Society. She heard Rukia muttering something in her sleep in a dark voice; it sounded like she was dreaming of conquering the world with an unstoppable army of Chappies at her command.

No light shone through the windows; it was a new moon. The wooden ceiling and walls and the shoji doors were all painted a monotone shadowy gray.

She sighed again, and, curling into a tight ball, forced herself to relax and close her eyes.

Sleep did not come easily, but it calmed her, and soothed her frazzled soul.

She dreamt of her home town, and her house, comforting in its familiarity. She had missed her home a lot; she almost felt like it was the first time she'd ever been there.

But in the midst of the comfort, she could feel something gnawing at her insides…it was really hurting her.

She awoke abruptly to the sight of weak sunlight coming through the windows in Rukia's room. After a moment spent wondering how she had gotten there and finally remembering, she stood and stretched, feeling incredibly hungry even though she'd had a huge dinner the night before.

Ukitake had spent the night preparing a Senkaimon for her to travel through; she was more than ready to return home.

She was almost excited by the prospect of the normalcy awaiting her there.

…..

She'd had an uneventful re-entry into her home dimensions.

The Senkaimon had opened in a small park a few blocks away from her home, a quiet place where no one would notice her stepping out of thin air.

She walked down the street slowly, enjoying how amazingly _real _everything felt compared to the almost insubstantial feel of Soul Society.

The ground was firm and solid beneath her feet, the air carried a reassuring weight, and even the sunbeams seemed to have a mass and shape of their own.

The buildings began to look more familiar; the lead ball in Orihime's stomach had disappeared, or at least it had grown lighter and warmer with her return to the World of the Living.

She saw her apartment building, and saw a few of her neighbors going about their business. The mundane scene was refreshing, but at the same time was almost annoying. _My life isn't like that anymore_, she thought. The lead ball and dark clouds were back.

She walked into the building and climbed the steps, feeling numb and disconnected, but still counting them as she went up, an old habit. She walked slowly down the hallway, being careful not to step on the cracks between the sections of carpeting. She stopped outside her door; the card only had her name on it now. She stood on her tiptoes and just barely managed to brush the spare key. She almost caught it as it fell, but it slipped between her fingers and landed on the floor.

Sighing quietly, she picked it up, and unlocked the door.

Stuffy darkness greeted her as she stepped inside and slid her dusty shoes off. She stepped over to the thermostat and turned it down about ten degrees. _First, a shower, _she thought absently. _And then some hot ramen with pickles and tuna mixed in. _Her stomach growled, loudly reminding her that it was hungry. _I guess I'd better take a fast shower…_

She went straight to the bathroom and peeled off her dirty clothes. The hot water felt absolutely amazing. She closed her eyes, and almost felt like smiling again. Soon, however, her stomach gave an ominous rumble, disrupting her peace.

She grabbed her mint green towel off its hook on the door and dried off quickly before wrapping herself tightly in it. She opened the bathroom door and the cold air hit her in waves. _Wow, the air conditioning really cooled it off in here…I'll have to turn it back up. _She could feel goosebumps forming on her exposed legs and shoulders. Trickles of water ran down her back from her dripping hair.

She pulled the short towel tighter around herself before walking across the hall to her room. She shut the door behind her and switched on the lights.

And nearly jumped out of her skin.

A thin, bone pale man sat on her bed; messy black locks hid his features from her sight, but she could see the black fingernails standing out starkly from the rest of him. He wore white clothing that was all too familiar. A very short chain dangled from the center of his chest.

He looked up; his intense emerald gaze met hers. She couldn't breathe under the weight of it.

For a moment, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. But finally she saw his eyes clear with vague recognition, and he mouthed a single word:

"Onna"

**Mwahaha. The return of the Emospada. Minus the "-spada" part. **

**Onna means woman, it's what Ulquiorra calls Orihime throughout the series. I think in English they changed it to girl…**

**R&R pretty pretty please. Reviewers get to ask Urahara, who'll read the next disclaimer, a question. Yayz! **


	6. Return

**Yay, new chapter! **

**Readers: TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH. **

**Me: Ack! -runs- I'm sorry this took so long I really am! **

**Big thanks go to Tozase-Murcielago, Satsuki312 (nee-san~!), Ino1693, soulspirit18, kimichi, andre-95, Subtle Serenity, Deviltrigger Dante, Ulquiarra, Sarah, and alanabanani for reviewing! **

**Also thanks to jigoku-kage (hell shadow?), Akai Kurai, venG, quasar73, and Subtle Serenity for favoriting/alerting! Almost all new names. ^_^ **

**I did actually get a question for Urahara! It's from Ulquiarra who asks what his favorite candy is. **

**Ur: Well, Ulquiarra, I like most candy. But lately I've been hooked on strawberry lollipops. The look on Ichigo's face when he comes in the shop is priceless. **

**Me: Ok, Urahara, read the disclaimer! **

**Ur: 3R15UK0UM31 doesn't own bleach or any of its characters. And we thank the gods for that.**

**Me: HEY! -sigh- Well, enjoy the chapter. **

**Return**

After Ulquiorra's brief revelation, the guarded confusion reappeared in his eyes. But Orihime didn't see any of it. All she could think was that she had wasted all that time in Soul Society and he had been here all along…Oh, the irony.

With one hand still clutching the edge of the towel, she touched his shoulder lightly, just to make sure he was real. She felt the smooth fabric of his clothing brush against her fingertips.

So he was really there.

After a few more seconds of stretched silence and (in Ulquiorra's case) intense staring, she felt her face heating up as she realized that she was still in her dangerously short mint green towel and the frigid water dripping down her back was making her shiver.

Ignoring the confusion still written all over his face, she grabbed the nightgown that was draped on the edge of the bed and rushed back to the bathroom to change.

She closed the door securely behind her and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was beginning to dry in clumps. She was still blushing lightly, and she swore she could feel her heartbeat all the way down in her toes.

She dragged the hairbrush through her sunset-colored hair absentmindedly, still watching her reflection in the mirror. It was probably the longest time she had ever spent looking at her reflection; she generally wasn't a vain person.

She hung the towel back on its hook and changed into the nightgown she had grabbed. It was long enough, pale blue in color, and the neckline was fairly conservative. She gave her appearance one last glance before she left the bathroom and headed back to her room.

He was standing next to the wall across from her when she came in. He was staring at the floor, obviously deep in thought. He looked up as she entered, his attention immediately centered on her. His stares no longer made her uneasy, although it felt a little strange to be on the receiving end of that blank look again. It had been so long…

An awkward silence stretched out; Orihime wasn't entirely sure what to say, and Ulquiorra wasn't exactly one to initiate conversation of any kind.

Finally, she smiled. "I'm glad you're back," she said, her words causing ripples in the silence like rocks thrown into a still pond.

He raised an eyebrow slightly at this. "Back?"

"Well, I know you weren't exactly _here_ when you were last in the living world, in fact this is probably your first time at my apartment." She paused. "It seems like just about everyone else who knows me has been here at least once, so I kinda assume now that everyone has, but they haven't really, and-"

"Onna," he cut in.

Before he could say anything else, she quickly continued. "Right, back. I meant back from...well…dying." It wasn't a pleasant memory for her.

The look he gave her was blanker than usual, so she elaborated. "Well, I figured that you must have been purified and gone to Soul Society, so I looked around there for a few days and thought you were really and truly gone, but then I came home and-"

"Onna," he interrupted again. "You are not making sense. You say I am dead, and yet you speak to me and interact with me as if I were alive. Furthermore, you imply that I know you. In you, I recognize the force that called me here. But beyond that, onna, I know nothing about you."

…

Kisuke Urahara stood by the window of his shop, fan opened and covering his face as usual. "Well, well," he murmured. "It appears Orihime found him after all. Or he found her."

A black cat leapt up silently onto the windowsill. "Kisuke," it began in a masculine voice, golden eyes shining. "Soul Society isn't going to be pleased with what's going on here."

"Soul Society's never pleased with anything that goes on here, Yoruichi. And they always blame it on me too!" He sighed melodramatically. "Me, I'm just a humble shopkeeper, I don't deserve to be pressured like this…"

"It usually is your fault Kisuke," Yoruichi countered pointedly.

He pouted, but the mischievous grin quickly returned. "I wonder if our theories were right, about his memories."

Yoruichi swished her tail back and forth thoughtfully. "There's only one way to find out."

…

Orihime was stunned. _Nothing? Did he just say he didn't know anything about me at all…? But he recognized me!_

She could practically see the facts adding up in his mind. "This startles you. You seem to know much more about me than I know about you. Perhaps, then, you could explain. Who are you, where do you know me from, and why did you call me here, onna?"

"I-it's a long story…very long…" she stammered, still surprised by this turn of events.

He said nothing, only gave her a look that said _I have time_.

She sat on the edge of her bed and prepared herself to tell the whole story. "It started two years ago..."

Before she could get any farther, an unidentified flying object shaped vaguely like a pie came rocketing through her open window. Orihime jumped, trying to avoid the missile and instead just unbalancing herself. Ulquiorra was at her side almost immediately, his hand wrapped around her arm to steady her. She didn't even notice how the pie had exploded on the wall; she was too concerned with the feeling of his hand wrapped around her bare arm.

His skin wasn't as cold as it looked; in fact, it was the same temperature as hers, and smooth, like sun-warmed stone. She felt the heat creeping back onto her face.

"Onna," he said, startling her. His hand was no longer on her arm. "I believe that message is for you."

"Huh…?" Finally she looked at the wall and almost screamed when she saw what appeared to be blood covering it. But the characters slowly became clear, and she read.

_Inoue-san, _

_You and your guest should come over for some tea and star-gazing._

Orihime looked out the window; it was cloudy.

_After all, I'd love to meet your guest and perhaps talk to him for a little while. We could probably help each other out in the near future. _

_Love, Urahara_

_P.S. Don't worry; the pie won't stain your wall. _

The red "pie" was already beginning to fade away. She sighed. Could this night get _any _weirder?

She realized later that she shouldn't have asked.

…

Urahara had ushered them into the back room and now they were seated around the big table. They made an odd group: one pale whole, one teen with bright orange hair, one mysterious shopkeeper/scientist, and a talking black cat to top it all off. And then there was Tessai, who came in at random intervals to refill teacups.

Urahara had outlined the basics of what had happened during the Winter War to Ulquiorra, who had absorbed the information like a sponge. But he still recalled nothing from his life (afterlife?) in Hueco Mundo.

After outlining Ulquiorra's death, Urahara peered over his fan and took a long look at the chain coming from his chest. "We should do something about that," he said, before snapping his fan shut noisily.

Tessai walked in, carrying a glass of water and two bright blue pills. He set them on the table in front of Ulquiorra before leaving. Urahara's fan was open again, and covering his face. "Take those pills, Ulquiorra-san. They'll help to stabilize your reiatsu and keep you from becoming a hollow again." Ulquiorra complied, and swallowed the pills silently.

Orihime's eyes widened as she watched his chain actually _grow _two new links.

"Well, now that that's taken care of, I suppose I should start on your gigai," Urahara said cheerfully, snapping his fan shut.

"Kisuke, I thought we agreed that-"

"Ulquiorra-san," he said, effectively cutting Yoruichi off. "Come with me, please. I need to take some measurements for your gigai." He stood up and stretched before leaving the room, yawning as he went. Ulquiorra stood and followed him out.

Silence reigned in the room.

Until an outraged yowl rang through the hallways. "URAHARA KISUKE, you will NOT ignore me again and live to tell about it!"

…

Urahara led Ulquiorra to an empty room in the back of the store. He had somehow obtained a measuring tape along the way as well.

He slid the door shut behind them. "Stand very still, Ulquiorra-san. If any of my measurements are off, I can promise you that your stay will be less than comfortable."

His posture was naturally very straight, but he seemed to stand up even straighter than before. Urahara pushed the edge of the measuring tape under Ulquiorra's foot and measured his height first. He stared at the numbers for a few seconds before pulling a pencil and a pad of paper out of the large pockets of his haori and scribbling them down.

"So," he began, as he measured the length of Ulquiorra's neck. "What do you think of Inoue-san?"

"She appears easily distracted and weak willed, but from what have you told me-"

"Oh, wait just a second," Urahara said, wrapping the measuring tape around Ulquiorra's neck. He scribbled down the numbers and looked up. "Continue."

He rubbed his neck for a moment where the tape had been. "From what you have told me, she sounds stubborn, rebellious, and fairly intelligent."

"It really is a pity," Urahara said, now measuring Ulquiorra's head. "That you've lost all these memories, I mean. Can you not remember how you got here at all?"

"No," Ulquiorra said. His tone was colder than before, and sounded restrained. Frustrated, perhaps? "Just that I am here, and it was that woman that called me."

"Hm…" The blonde ex-shinigami finally stepped back, but he still had the measuring tape out. "I'm going to have to ask you to remove your shirt."

Silently, Ulquiorra took off the white shirt he had been wearing. He looked at it reflectively for a few seconds before dropping it on the ground. "You mentioned I was a member of an army. I suppose this clothing was the uniform?" The question came out sounding more like a statement.

Urahara refrained from answering. He wrapped the tape first around Ulquiorra's shoulders and then around the thickest part of his arm. "Quite small, for such a powerful arrancar," he commented.

He had figured Ulquiorra wouldn't deem it to be worthy of an answer, but he replied. "You should not base your predictions of someone's strength on their physical bulk."

_He's much more talkative than his file implied…_He finished the last of the torso measurements. He draped the tape around his neck while he wrote down a new section. He turned back to see that Ulquiorra had picked up his shirt and was about to put it back on. "Just a moment, Ulquiorra-san. There are a few more measurements. And you're going to need to take those off," he said, gesturing vaguely to Ulquiorra's hakama.

Ulquiorra simply closed his eyes, sighed quietly, and did as he was told.

"Well, I take back my earlier comment about your size," Urahara said with a low whistle.

"That is irrelevant. Finish taking the measurements."

…

Urahara and Yoruichi (now in human form) sat alone at the round table. Orihime had fallen asleep and was staying in a guest room, and, for lack of a better place to put him, Ulquiorra was in the guest room as well.

"So not only are you going to keep him away from Soul Society, but you're giving him a gigai? At this rate, we'll be lucky if they don't come down here and execute us all," Yoruichi said gravely.

Urahara simply shrugged. "The boy has untapped potential. It seems like a lot of his spiritual power remains, it's just in a rougher, less manageable form."

"You're going to train another one?"

"Well, there's no harm in seeing what he can do," Urahara said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "At any rate, we need to stabilize his reiatsu more permanently, and that can only be done by helping him realize that it's there."

Yoruichi was still being uncharacteristically serious. "I thought you were through experimenting. Besides, aren't you forgetting? We still don't know where he's been for the last two years, why he's lost his memories, or how Soul Society will react when they find out that we're keeping a whole in the human world. And not just any whole, a former Espada. You know they like to keep a close eye on their enemies." At this, she looked out the window, as if she expected to see a miniature camera hovering outside the window, recording their entire conversation.

"We should be able to keep it quiet for a little while longer while we answer those questions. I have a few theories about the time gap, and the memories as well," He looked up, the raccoon-shadows cast by his hat giving him a mysterious look. "That is, if you want to hear them."

She nodded. "Let me guess, the Koutotsu."

"Well, yes, the cleaner would explain the time gap. But it doesn't explain why he came straight to the World of the Living without going through Soul Society first. We can worry about that later though." He snapped his fan open. "I've heard several cases of hollows that lose their memories after they're purified. Usually it takes a long time, sometimes decades, but it almost always happens. Sometimes, however, the hollows lose their memories almost instantaneously. Sometimes it goes so far that they forget what their own names are. Usually these cases involved some type of trauma just before purification. For example, perhaps they were purified by a long lost family member who became a Shinigami in Soul Society. For some reason, events like these speed up the memory loss."

Because he hadn't said anything about it, Yoruichi asked. "…Is there any way to make them remember…?"

"There have never been any cases where memories were miraculously regained. But then again," Here he smirked, and the mischievous glint returned to his eyes. "We would be the first to try."

**Urgh, sorry it took so long. I got stuck on trying to word the first part right. In fact, this whole chapter gave me trouble. Oh well.**

**Please please PLEASE tell me if anyone seems even a little OOC. I like to know these things. **

**R&R please; reviewers get rare potted Zinger trees! They grow witty comments instead of leaves. XD **


	7. Sunlight

**Ha, this chapter turned out really long. **

**Believe it or not, the only reason I was EVER getting chapters out in 3 days is because A. They're only 6 or 7 pages long, and B. I had WAAAAY too much free time in the mornings before work. Now I have even more free time, so I tend to procrastinate more. Please, feel free to pelt me with rotten vegetables, cats, or clumps of weeds from your neighbor's yard. In fact please do. Maybe I'll stop procrastinating. (Yeah right)**

**Ok, this chapter gets stream-of-consciousness later on. That section will be in Ulquiorra's POV, and it's him kinda reliving his memories. The slashes show the breaks between memories. Get it?**

**I realized I tend to write in tiny paragraphs. I kinda start new paragraphs when the thought ends or the topic switches, and I do that a lot. Sorry if the choppy paragraphs got annoying, I'm getting better about it. **

**This chapter begins to get more UlquiHime-ish. I told you it'd be coming. ^_^ Just...hang in there a little while longer. **

**So, amazing one-of-a-kind Zinger trees go to talkstoangels77, soulspirit18, DreamsOfAWorld, Tozase-Murcielago, G. Ai Inoue, BlackRose274, shiks, and Toph43. :D Lots of new names, and a bunch of old ones too. I love you guys. ^^ **

**Thanks go to anime-randomizrXIV, G. Ai Inoue, TooManyPairingsAddict, DreamsOfAWorld, and Toph43 for favoriting/alerting. **

**And a big thank you to Ulquiarra, who writes wonderful stories and spent several hours chatting with me about, well, everything from Zodiac signs to plot holes. **

**Orihime, read our disclaimer please!**

**O: Ok! 3R15UK0UM31 doesn't own Bleach or any of its characters. They all belong to...Kubo-sensei? Who's that, Koumei-san? **

**Me: Uh...Fourth Wall, activate! (I hope you guys get this)**

**So, new chapter! Yay. Enjoy, and happy Tanabata to everyone! Go outside and look at where you think the Milky Way is tonight, and pray for Ulquiorra and Orihime, and Orihime (Vega) and Hikoboshi (Altair). **

**Sunlight**

Orihime woke up slowly, still half asleep. She felt warm and comfortable, warmer than she should be, even under the blankets. _Oh no, I left the air conditioner off again, didn't I…_ she thought groggily. She opened her eyes slowly, expecting to see the sunlight streaming through her window. Instead, what she saw was an unfamiliar room bathed in the grayish half-light of dawn. She panicked for a moment. _What if Aizen somehow survived and he kidnapped me again because he was mad I escaped the first time and maybe he's come back with a huge robot army and he's planning on taking over the world again…? _

But even as she felt the fear-inspired adrenaline pumping through her, she was gradually recognizing the room as one of the guest rooms in Urahara Shouten. She had stayed in this room before, back when the Bounts had tried to take over Soul Society…

_I must've dozed off the other night_, she thought. _Urahara must've put me in here. He could've at least woken me up…_

Her eyes were still adjusting to the pre-dawn light, but her mind was awakened by the adrenaline. She blinked a few times and took a few slow breaths, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. She turned over onto her other side, and for the first time, noticed that the blanket felt like it was trapped under something behind her, almost as if-

Her breath caught as she suddenly found her face mere inches away from her former captor's, so close she could feel his cool breath ghosting over her cheeks. At first she was shocked, and then mortified; she could feel the heat spreading across her face, and she was sure she was sporting a blush that could rival Renji's hair. She scooted back a few inches, glad Ulquiorra obviously wasn't as light a sleeper as she had anticipated.

Finally, as the initial shock wore off, she sighed quietly, remembering that his memories were gone, and it wasn't like he knew anything (or cared to know anything) about human culture anyways. Urahara had probably dumped the ex-Espada in the guest room for lack of a better place to put him. Doubtless, the pale man would've been tired, and the futon was obviously the most comfortable place to sleep. Why risk much needed rest to avoid embarrassing the human woman? At least he was sleeping on top of the blankets…

This train of thought, having nowhere further to go, promptly derailed, leaving her staring blankly at Ulquiorra's unusually relaxed features. She began to unconsciously take in all the new details, how he had changed since the war…

His bone helmet was gone, and his jet black hair was just as unruly as ever, falling across his face at odd angles. His eyes were just as large as ever; she could see his eyelids twitching as he dreamed. She remembered wondering how someone with such expressive eyes could be so…_un_expressive_. _The tear streaks that had once trailed down his face were gone, leaving no trace that they had ever been there. His upper lip was still black, though, and so were his fingernails. Her gaze trailed down along the graceful curve of his neck before lingering over where his hollow hole had been. It was filled in, of course, but for some reason, it had left a small, perfectly round scar. His skin was still unnaturally pale, but it was no longer bone white. A small corner in the back of her mind pointed out that he was shirtless, and she felt herself blushing again. Still, her eyes continued to wander over his leanly muscled form, and her blush continued to deepen.

Eventually, she forced herself to shut her eyes and relax. However, thoughts of her former captor continued to plague her, and when she finally slept, her dreams were filled with his cool emerald gaze.

….

"Ah, Inoue-san, how nice of you to join us!"

Orihime smiled at the blonde shopkeeper before taking a seat at the table. Tessai set a plate of toast with red bean jam on it in front of her. She took a bite; it was delicious, even better than last time. "Oh, wow Tessai-san, this is really good!"

He blushed happily. "I added some cinnamon and red pepper this time to give it a little flavor, and mayonnaise to make it creamier."

"I'm sorry to cut short your culinary discussion, but there are other things we should be discussing right now," Yoruichi interrupted, politely declining the plate of toast Tessai offered her.

"There's no need to rush, we've got plenty of time," Urahara said, sipping his tea. "We might as well try and enjoy a leisurely meal."

Yoruichi ignored him. "Kisuke thinks he's found a way to restore Ulquiorra's memories."

Orihime's eyes widened as she turned to glance first at Yoruichi, and then at Urahara. "Really? So you can actually do it?"

"Well, there's not a huge chance it will work, but Kisuke being Kisuke, he's going to try it anyways," Yoruichi commented.

Urahara chose this moment to speak up. "I don't think his memories are really gone at all," he said. "They've just been locked away to the point where he can no longer recall them consciously. Information never truly disappears, so I think if we manage to find where it's hidden, we can make him recall what happened, a little bit at a time." He paused, letting it sink in before moving on. "His file mentioned a highly developed photographic memory and the ability to replay events for the viewing of others. I wouldn't be surprised if the information was somewhere in the visual cortex. If we stimulated that section of his brain, the images could very well begin to come back." He sat back and waited for Orihime's input.

She was silent for a moment. Finally she spoke up. "Stimulate how…?"

"We're not planning to cut his skull open if that's what you're worried about," Urahara said, effectively dodging the question.

"When-"

"Ah, Ulquiorra-san, good morning!" Urahara called cheerfully.

Ulquiorra didn't bother to reply. He sat across the table from Urahara, which just happened to be the seat next to Orihime. He was really just interested in staring down the irritating scientist. He noticed Orihime blushing slightly and focusing her gaze on her toast as if it were the most amazing thing she had ever seen.

He was tired. The woman's incessant tossing and turning had kept him up for most of the night, and then the sunlight hadn't allowed him to sleep once she finally left. He was irritated with the woman for being so restless, irritated with Urahara for not giving him separate quarters, and even a little irritated that the Earth had continued to rotate, making the sun rise.

Ulquiorra Schiffer was not a morning person. And he could tell this day was going to be less than pleasant.

….

Orihime stared at the shops in fascination. It had been years since she had done any shopping other than grocery shopping. She had never really had much money to spare, and the few times she did go to the mall were when Rangiku was still staying with her.

Now Yoruichi and Orihime had been forcibly evicted from the Urahara Shouten for the afternoon with Urahara's suggestion that they "go out and enjoy themselves".

"Let's go in here first," Yoruichi said, pulling Orihime into a home décor store. Orihime always loved these stores. They were so colorful, and they were full of so many interesting knick-knacks.

Yoruichi had instantly disappeared amongst the shelves. Orihime wandered somewhat aimlessly through the aisles, looking at pillows and throws, candles and fake flowers, interesting paintings and sculptures.

One painting in particular caught her eye: a white room, completely empty. There was a small high window in one of the walls, and moonlight shone through it, illuminating a figure lying on the floor and weeping.

Yoruichi came up behind her, carrying bags full of knick-knacks. She followed the younger woman's gaze to the painting. _She just can't forget that place…_ "Come on, Orihime, let's go to the next store!"

Orihime stood, rooted to that spot for a few seconds more before she followed Yoruichi out into the bright summer sunlight. _I hope Ulquiorra's alright…_

….

He had agreed to this…experiment without much thought. He found himself feeling the lack of his memories, now that he knew they were missing. To know that so much had happened and he could remember none of it was…disturbing, to say the least.

And that woman…she was intriguing. Intriguing because he knew so little of her, and yet he ultimately felt _drawn_ to her. _Like moths to a flame, _he thought, and he felt vaguely disgusted with himself for having so little control over what he had done since he came to this place.

And yet he was still fascinated by her and the reactions she managed to coax out of him. Like when she had stared at him, studied him while she thought he slept, and he had actually _enjoyed _her attention and wanted more of it. And when she had finally fallen asleep and he had let his eyes trail over her exquisite features, absorbing every detail, and vaguely wondering why he had waited for her to fall asleep before examining her. As if he didn't like the idea of making her uncomfortable. Ha. Him worrying about trash. Ludicrous.

_But, _he grudgingly admitted. _If what I have heard is true, she is quite different from the rest of the trash I have met here. _

Just then, a hatch door opened up out of the floor and Urahara's striped hat poked up out of it, followed quickly by the rest of him. "The machines are all set up, whenever you're ready."

Without a word, Ulquiorra walked past the blonde scientist and climbed down the ladder into a large lab. He sat on the edge of the hospital bed that had been set up in the center. "How long will this take?" he asked. It came out more sharply than he had anticipated.

Urahara had just gotten to the bottom of the ladder. "It depends." He rummaged around for something on one of the many tables in the lab.

"Estimate."

"There's no way for me to do that," Urahara said, moving around behind Ulquiorra. He set something down and could be heard opening packages. Ulquiorra turned around to see what he was doing and caught sight of a bundle of wires before Urahara spoke again. "Keep your head turned the way it was, please." Ulquiorra felt light pressure across the base of his skull as the electrodes were pressed onto his skin.

"You must have some idea of how long this will take," Ulquiorra said, careful to keep his head still.

Urahara was silent. He didn't like to admit that he really didn't know how long this would take, or if it would work at all. He placed the last electrode and flipped the switch on the monitors. One showed brain activity, while another kept track of his heart rate and blood pressure, and yet another monitored his reiatsu stability. Absolutely essential for a whole.

He got Ulquiorra to lie down and gave him an IV. The anesthetic knocked him out in minutes. Urahara flipped a small switch that sent randomized electrical pulses through the electrodes. He watched color bloom on the monitor that showed brain activity. _Nothing to do now but wait_, he thought, and settled in for several long hours of watching the monitors.

….

Many of the memories simply rushed by in a blur, effortlessly recognized as unimportant day-to-day routines. But there were a few that stuck out in bright color, moments that he actually remembered in all of their crystal clear detail.

/

Himself, naked, kneeling before his creator and pledging everlasting loyalty. On the inside, his ambitious hollow nature still thirsted for power, thirsted for the promise of survival. And here was someone who could offer it to him. It was only a matter of time before this foolish man who thought himself immortal would fall, but Ulquiorra would remain powerful and alive.

/

The first time he released the second stage of his zanpakuto. The dark rush of power that destroyed everything nearby. He promised that this power would be his own; Aizen wasn't worthy of knowing of it. And when the day came to turn against his leader, he would be ready.

/

The first mission to Karakura. That imbecile Yammy wouldn't stop talking nonsense and pay attention to his surroundings. Their landing had attracted the attention of the human trash who were so weak they couldn't tell the Espada were there.

And then that woman had shown up. There was something fascinating in the way she seemed to embody the life and sunlight that the people of that world held so dear. How her hair seemed to shimmer, even in the harsh sunlight he despised. And her eyes held a depth of emotion that he, as a hollow, could barely begin to understand.

He couldn't understand her, and he didn't understand why he would want to. She was trash, like the rest of the pathetic inhabitants of her world. And that was what he told Yammy.

She was a distraction and therefore a threat. She was human and therefore trash. His logic was infallible.

And then the dark boy had shown up and been injured. He watched her in veiled fascination as she "healed" him. It wasn't healing or kido, it was something of a completely different nature. It was reversal. This woman he had deemed trash had the power to simply rewind time, reject an event so that it never happened. He found himself thinking that she was more of a god than Aizen could ever hope to be.

The rest of the mission flew by in a blur. And when he reported to Aizen, he made sure to tell him of the full extent of her magnificent powers. The boy was trash, but the woman was different. And he made sure that Aizen was well aware of this.

/

He had backed her into a corner. She was forced to come with him, even if she wasn't aware of it. And soon he would have all the time he needed to peel her apart, analyze her, plumb the depths of her so-called "soul", layer by layer, until he could understand exactly what she was.

/

She was a living contradiction. She had come willingly to keep her nakama from being harmed, and yet now she wished for them to put themselves in harm's way to rescue her. "Do you wish to feel that you are important to them? Do not waste your time, onna. They are selfish creatures; they only wish to survive another day. They will not come for you if it means they might lose their own lives."

"You're wrong," she whispered quietly, not looking at him, hands clasped in front of her chest. "They will come for me. And I know they will win."

His gaze was blank as ever, but underneath it, he was becoming frustrated. "How can you be so sure they will live to reach you?"

"My heart is with them," was all she said. She refused to speak anymore, refused to eat when he commanded her to. He left more confused than when he had come in.

/

He had finally snapped. She was making no sense. She had made no sense since she had arrived. How could a single human woman be so difficult to understand? Humans were weak, simple-minded, selfish, power-hungry creatures that cared for nothing other than themselves. And yet this woman seemed to effortlessly defy every preconception he had of humans, while at the same time meeting them. Under pressure she was strong and unbreakable, but the sight of her friends was enough to reduce her to tears and helplessness. She was intelligent but hid it behind a mask of distracted foolishness. She wished only to protect her friends and yet she had come to Hueco Mundo partially to make them notice her. She seemed to want to prove her worth, and yet every time she was presented with a chance, she proceeded to prove how weak and dependent upon her friends she was. Every time she tried to stand on her own in their presence, she ended up letting them carry her as they always had. And it annoyed him to no end to see her act that way, when he knew she was so much better than that. She made no sense.

"What is a heart? If I rip open your chest, will I see it?" He rested his hand over her collarbone, right where his own hole would be. "If I crack open your skull, will I find it there?" He moved his hand up to rest between her eyes. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, saw her eyes widen even though she claimed she was not afraid.

He heard an explosion behind him and felt the air thicken with that boy Kurosaki's reiatsu. _Perfect timing_, he thought. _I will destroy this trash that she has laid her hopes on. She will feel despair, and then maybe she will learn to stand on her own. _

/

He had let his emotions cloud his judgment. That was why he had lost. He could've killed the trash in his first release but the boy refused to bow, refused to break. Every time he was knocked down, he picked himself up and kept fighting. He wanted to crush the boy utterly, destroy every remnant of hope. He wanted to completely destroy this trash the woman relied on so completely.

He had underestimated the boy's strength, underestimated that "heart" the woman had spoken of. The boy was dead, but he had let his hollow, something he was terrified of, take over his body and fight for him to protect the woman. The bond between the boy, the woman, even the Quincy, was stronger than he had anticipated.

Now he could no longer move. He saw Kurosaki looking around, amazed and horrified at what he had done, demanding a fair fight. The boy was foolish. He felt his wings beginning to disintegrate, leaving numbness where there had been pain before.

Was this what makes humans strong, then? This heart? The bonds they formed were surely quite strong, even though there was nothing solid, nothing tangible to hold them together.

He looked at the woman, his former captive. He was sure she would go free after this. He doubted Aizen's strength could ever truly hold this willful woman. He stretched his hand out towards her, longing for the contact, hoping that one final desperate action might be enough to help him understand just what it was that drove this woman. "Are you afraid of me, onna…?"

"No…I'm not afraid…" she said quietly, stretching her hand out in response. Their fingers grew closer; he could feel the disintegration speeding up. His wings were completely gone, broken down into ashes and scattered on the wind.

Their hands were centimeters apart, just a little farther… For a split second he felt the warm softness of her skin and then the gentle pressure simply broke through his fragile hand. It fell apart, dissolving into ash. He watched her, his gaze as calm as always, but softer, sadder.

The last thing he heard as his consciousness faded was a soft murmur. "I was never afraid, never of you."

….

Orihime and Yoruichi had returned from their shopping spree laden with colorful plastic bags full of all kinds of things they didn't really need. Orihime still wasn't sure _where_ they had gotten the money to buy all of this stuff, but Yoruichi insisted that she didn't need to worry about it.

It was getting close to dinner time now, and neither of them had seen Urahara or Ulquiorra yet. She assumed that they were discussing options for getting Ulquiorra's memory back or something like that.

Tessai had brought some tea, and they sat around the table, chatting idly about this and that.

That was, of course, until Yoruichi decided she wanted to talk about something else.

"You really like that Schiffer kid, don't you?"

Orihime nearly choked on her tea. "W-what?"

Yoruichi grinned."Don't think I haven't seen the way you blush when he sits next to you." As if on cue, the redhead blushed. If anything, the older woman's grin just got wider. "He's quite a catch, there's nothing to be ashamed about."

Of course, Orihime had admitted to herself long ago that she'd liked Ulquiorra, maybe even loved him, but was it really that obvious? "Y-you could…tell?"

"It was pretty obvious, 'Hime. You blush and sigh like a schoolgirl."

The redhead sighed in defeat. Yoruichi felt the need to chime back in. "Oh, but don't worry. I think he's pretty oblivious about this stuff, and I doubt Ichigo's noticed either."

"You think so…?"

Yoruichi laughed. "Of course! Ichigo's a complete moron, and Emo Boy only sees what he wants to see. You've got nothing to worry about."

Orihime smiled. "Thanks Yoruichi."

"Any time."

Urahara chose this moment to (very noisily) pop up out of the floor between the two women, obviously hoping to scare them, or at least startle them a bit.

Neither reacted. After all, if you've ever spent more than five minutes with Urahara, you get used to that sort of thing. He pouted slightly at this anticlimactic reception before speaking. "Ulquiorra's awake," he said. "And he's demanded to know where his woman is." Urahara smirked before climbing completely out of the hatchway. As he walked by Orihime, he whispered noisily to her. "I'd get down there quickly, before he decides to tear down this whole place looking for you."

Orihime froze in shock. _You mean Urahara was experimenting on him this entire time? And now…he remembers…? _The young woman looked up at Urahara for confirmation, but the scientist had already disappeared down the darkened hallway. She sat silently for a few seconds more.

"Well, go on," Yoruichi said, impatient. "This is what you've been waiting for, isn't it?"

Orihime nodded, standing. Her gray eyes were nervous "But what if-"

"Just get down there already, before I push you down!"

Orihime chose the first choice and climbed down the first few rungs as fast as she could. She paused about halfway down, taking deep breaths to slow her heartbeat and steel her nerves. _Does he really remember now…?_

She didn't have time to think about it. She had reached the floor. She turned, and was met with the sight of a hospital bed, and sitting on it was Ulquiorra. He looked at her with that same apathetic emerald gaze she was used to seeing, but as she got closer, she could see the emotion swirling deep underneath, like currents of water under the surface of a frozen lake. "Onna," he murmured.

_What if I'm just getting my hopes up to be disappointed again? _

He reached out a hand wordlessly. Closure.

She felt her heart soar as she reached back, effortlessly bridging the gap between them.

Her fingers closed around his, and both of them felt a thrill run through them, felt the air charge and grow heavy with unsaid words.

And she smiled so brightly, Ulquiorra believed that she made that tiny thing the humans called the sun seem insignificant in comparison.

**Link to Tanabata story: http: / / www. wikipedia .org/wiki/Tanabata#Story **

**Remove the spaces. **

**Also, the call goes out for a Beta! And yes, I mean a real Beta who will criticize my work, not just someone who wants to read it earlier than everyone else. **

**I really would love a Beta folks. If any of you do that. **

**Reviewers get silly putty. Seriously, that stuff is amazing. It burns white. :D **


	8. New

**I'm really sorry this took so long. ^^" Don't hurt me…**

**This chapter's a good bit longer than the previous ones, hopefully that will make up for something. **

**Also, a lot more happens. There's even a little UlquiHime in this one. :D **

**Readers: FINALLY. **

**Yeah, yeah….Anyways, silly putty goes to G. Ai Inoue, soulspirit18, KyoxSakiFan, DreamsOfAWorld, Ulquiarra, Fanime-sensei (Hoshiko-chan!), frawg360, Satsuki312, anime-randomizrXIV, IceFire Dragon Alchemist 73, Sarah6100, DyingInnersoul (Tatsu-baka!), Subtle Serenity, and Xylexia. Thanks for reviewing! Lots of new names. ^^ They make me happy. **

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**Big, huge, amazing, wonderful, thank you written in big bold glitter letters to my beta KyoxSakiFan, who amazingly hasn't ripped her hair out yet in frustration/annoyance. XD**

**So, Tatsuki, read the disclaimer please. **

**T: 3R15UK0UM31 doesn't own Bleach or any of the characters in it. And the only reason I'm being forced to do this is because there probably ARE lawyers out there looking for this crap. **

**Me: Yep. So, please, don't sue. Enjoy the chapter!**

**New**

Orihime froze for a moment, rooted to the ground under the weight of emotions that had been pent up for far too long. This man who had kidnapped her, held her captive, watched over her, _protected _her, her supposed enemy that she had spent two years missing so much it hurt…he was _alive_.

She could feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes but barely noticed as they began to run down her face, releasing some of the pain and misery she had been hiding for what felt like forever. As soon as she could move again, she pulled her former captor into a bone-crushing hug. "I missed you," she murmured, pressing her face into his shoulder.

Ulquiorra stiffened, one of his hands still holding the woman's, his other arm pinned awkwardly in her bear hug. He was far too stunned to give any sort of coherent response; he had expected much different from the strong-willed woman. Hatred, anger, disgust, loathing, maybe even violence; after all, she had already shown that she was not in the least afraid of him, or afraid of the consequences that might come from attacking one's captor.

But here she was, two years later, clinging to him as if she would fall to her death if she let go, her tears soaking his shirt…and she had _missed _him. It made no sense whatsoever. He had done nothing but threaten her, imprison her, injure and nearly kill those friends she held so dear, and she had, for some unfathomable reason, felt the lack of his presence.

He wasn't really sure what to do. The only time any other being had ever willingly touched him was to attempt to kill him. The woman seemed to be waiting for some sort of response from him. He managed to pull his free arm out of her death grip before moving his hand around to the small of her back, pulling her closer. He had seen other humans doing this before on his infrequent trips to the World of the Living; it seemed to somehow offer comfort to them, although he couldn't fathom why.

This only served to bring open the floodgates as Orihime finally let go of everything she'd been holding back since she had left the dome. She let go of all her regrets and pain and misery, and let them fly back to that world of endless night that she had left, hopefully forever.

Ulquiorra found that without his hierro, his skin was much more sensitive. He felt the slight draft in the laboratory, felt the woman's hot tears soaking through his shirt and dampening his skin, felt her hand still tightly clutching his as if it might fade away into nothing, felt every inch of her body pressed tightly against his, felt an unfamiliar warmth blossoming in the pit of his stomach…

Her scent was all around him, intoxicating, living, smelling of sunlight and growing things, everything he wasn't. Her warmth was contagious; he could never recall feeling more whole in his afterlife. He found his curious mind wandering down more dangerous tracks; he wondered absently what every inch of her skin would feel like against his, what it would taste like. Her scent was clouding his mind, making it impossible to think clearly.

"Onna," he said, his voice coming out more strained than usual.

"Oh," she said, startled out of her crying. "I'm sorry, I got your shirt all wet…" She let go of his hand and took a few steps back.

"It does not matter." He was simply grateful that she was standing farther away where her presence wasn't so…overwhelming.

He found that he loathed her tears. After all, if she was crying she must have been in pain somehow. He told himself that the reason for this hatred was that he felt he had failed in his duty as her guard and caretaker, he had failed to protect her. Something about it didn't ring true, but he could feel the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes, and decided not to pursue it any farther than necessary.

Purely on instinct, he reached out and gently brushed the remaining tears off her cheeks, silently marveling at her warmth; he was tired of seeing her cry. He wanted to see her smile again. Perhaps if she stopped crying, it would ease the throbbing pain in his skull.

Orihime froze as his fingers brushed over her cheeks, feeling pleasantly cool against her warmer skin. She felt hot blood racing up into her cheeks as she blushed.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, so slightly that most wouldn't see it. He turned his hand over and pressed the back of it lightly against her cheek, then against her forehead. "Onna, are you feeling well?" His voice held the barest traces of what could've been concern.

"I-I'm fine," she stuttered, mentally berating herself for not even being able to think clearly around the former Espada.

He moved closer to her, obviously not convinced. His green eyes pierced into hers as he looked down at her still-flushed face. Her blush intensified. His hand moved off her forehead, and he pressed his cool thumb gently against the side of her neck. The contact nearly made her shiver. Traces of his scent wafted around her, cold and dark and unmoving.

"Your heart rate is elevated, your breathing is fast and shallow, and your skin temperature is a degree above normal ," he intoned.

"I told you, I'm fine!" She pouted slightly.

She could tell easily from the look in his eyes that he was not convinced. But there was something else too, something clouding the piercingly clear emerald of his eyes. Something that looked unnervingly like pain.

The pressure behind Ulquiorra's eyes had increased tenfold, and was now accompanied by sharp pain when he accidently looked into the bright laboratory lights. His vision was beginning to swim.

Orihime saw his eyes go unfocused. "Ulquiorra…?"

He failed to notice the lack of an honorific; the pain behind his eyes was making his vision blur. It felt like his head would explode. He let his eyes slip shut, blocking out that horrific light all around him. He fell into the blessedly painless darkness of unconsciousness.

…..

Ulquiorra woke up slowly, gradually. His head was still pounding, but he found that the pain was bearable. He cracked an eye open cautiously, expecting to be greeted by the glaring lights of Urahara's basement laboratory.

The light here was warmer than the cold, sterile lab light. And the material he was wrapped in was much too soft to be the sheets on a hospital bed. He opened his eyes completely and found himself in a vaguely familiar living room staring straight across at a small TV. He was lying on a dark orange sofa, wrapped in a sinfully soft gray blanket. He wanted to close his eyes again, shut out the sight of the bright walls and the bright sofa and the bright _everything_. There was simply too much color. And none of it even went together. It was like the owner of the room had given Grimmjow some buckets of bright paint and let him at it.

The former Cuatra sighed quietly. He was in the woman's apartment.

He sat up, somewhat relieved to note that the pain in his head didn't worsen. The last time he'd been in this room it had been dark, and he had been too focused on following the woman's reiatsu to take in his surroundings. _A potentially fatal mistake, _he thought. _One that should be remedied. _As his eyes slowly adjusted to the brightly colored walls, he looked around the room, observing every detail .The small glass coffee table in front of the sofa; the shrine by the door; a door to the left of the TV, probably going to a kitchen; a hallway that led back to the woman's bedroom and bathroom.

He stood slowly, irritated by the stiffness in his legs. _Pathetic._ The woman's reiatsu was all around him, and, to his annoyance, he found he couldn't distinguish whether it was fresh or old, whether she was in the apartment or not. He would have to actually _look _for her, something only trash with no ability to sense reiatsu did: trash like Kurosaki.

He looked in the kitchen briefly. The lights weren't on; in the semi-darkness, he saw the remains of a meal or two sitting on the counter and in the sink. There was no sign of the woman.

He walked down the hallway to the back of the apartment and opened the door to her bedroom, expecting to see her sleeping, or perhaps simply staring at the wall as she sometimes did in Las Noches. The bedroom was empty as well, even though her reiatsu lingered on everything in it. The lights were turned off here as well, but sunlight streamed through the lone window, bathing the room in a warm glow. The bed covers were messy and unmade. Struggling to ignore the woman's scent hovering all around him, he felt the covers; they were cold. She hadn't been here for a while.

His eyes strayed to the window, as if he expected to see her right outside. Taped to the window was a neon green piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front. The handwriting was unmistakably Orihime's. He pulled it down and peeled the tape off the paper, momentarily curious about the strip of adhesive. He quickly concluded that it was worthless, as it was easily torn and had an irritating tendency to stick to itself, becoming even _less_ usable. He opened the note.

_Ulquiorra,_ it read. No honorific. He sighed quietly and continued reading.

_Urahara-san said you had some kind of delayed allergic reaction to the anesthetic he used. He said it was his first time ever using an anesthetic on a whole before, so he wasn't really sure what would happen. _

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed slightly as he read this. He silently added the scientist's name to his mental hit list, right under Kurosaki Ichigo and Grimmjow Jaegarjaques.

_I was about to make some breakfast for you and leave it out, but then I remembered that wholes don't get hungry unless they're about to turn into hollows. _

He glanced at his soul chain briefly. There were still several links in it.

_Oh, and Urahara-san gave me some more of those pills. He said you'll need a couple more before your gigai is ready. I'll give you one when I get home from school. _

_~Love, Orihime_

_P.S. I guess you found this note alright? I tried to put it somewhere you'd see it. Hope I did ok! _

He pondered her signature for a moment. _Love…?_ Did other humans end their messages in the same strange way, or was it another of the woman's idiosyncrasies?

School. She had spoken of that place before, somewhere she went occasionally. It seemed to serve no more purpose than a social gathering place from what she had told him. After all, humans craved social interaction, so it would make sense to have a specific place to allow them to gather and talk. Presumably about nothing.

He knew the layout of Karakura Town quite well, as Aizen had allowed them to go there several times in order to be prepared for the Winter War. However, he wasn't sure which building was the "school". His only option was to try and find her reiatsu.

He left her apartment and, after a few minutes of trying to find his way around the building**, **he barely managed to find a trail of her reiatsu and followed it out of the building, glad he could still sense reiatsu to some extent. Better than Kurosaki, and that was all that mattered.

…..

Orihime's walk to school had been uneventful. She had smiled brightly and said good morning to her neighbors and pet a friendly stray cat that she sometimes saw. He was big boned with short grey fur and silvery green eyes; she had named him Haineko, in memory of her Shinigami friend who had passed away in the war, killed by the man she loved.

She had seen Tatsuki, and her heart warmed at the sight of her lifelong friend. Tatsuki had, of course, questioned her about what she had done over the break, but she had said she'd tell her later.

She had been groped by a hyper Chizuru (who got ripped away forcefully by Tatsuki), greeted warmly by Mizuiro, and greeted overenthusiastically by Keigo (Tatsuki gave him a bloody nose). She waved to Ichigo and Chad, apologizing several times for not being able to go to the beach with them. Uryuu showed her a new dress he had made over the break. Everything was back to normal. Even she was back to normal, although no one seemed to notice that her smiles were suddenly genuine. No one except Tatsuki, who gave her a look filled with understanding, and said, "Good to see you back, 'Hime."

Of course no one knew where she'd _really_ been during that week. She knew she'd have to tell them eventually, but she wanted to enjoy this normalcy as long as she could. She was allowed to sit in class and not have to worry about anything bigger than the calculus problems on the board, or how much homework she would have tonight, or if her lunch was getting squashed in her bookbag.

And that was when she felt his presence.

He was still a long way away, but she knew his reiatsu well, and could sense it clearly. She looked around almost frantically; hoping none of her friends had noticed him yet. No one seemed disturbed, but Uryuu was staring out the window, looking like he was deep in thought. Trying to remember where he had felt that reiatsu before.

She raised her hand quickly. The teacher was in the middle of an in-depth explanation, and pretended not to notice. Orihime waved her hand around urgently, earning some chuckles from her classmates. Finally, the teacher turned around. "Yes, Orihime?"

"May I go to the bathroom?" Orihime asked, getting more and more nervous by the second, absolutely sure Uryuu was going to catch on.

"No, you may not. You need to be here for this explanation. Everything we'll be doing for the last month of school before exams builds on this." The teacher turned back to the board and continued her lecture.

"But, Fujioka-sensei, I'm not sure I can hold it that long!"

The teacher sighed, adjusting her glasses and hiding a small smile. It was a weak excuse for skipping class, sure, but she really did like Orihime; that girl had the best marks in the class. "Fine, go ahead. But remember, they won't let you out of class in college unless you're dying."

"Thanks a lot!" Orihime called back, running out of the classroom at top speed.

Uryuu watched her leave, skeptical. He felt the reiatsu, and was absolutely sure that was why she was leaving. As the only one of their group left with any sort of spiritual power, he was almost completely sure that he was the only one who had noticed it. As it came nearer though, Tatsuki began shooting glances towards the window. And after Orihime left, she began to look worried. Uryuu gave her a look, and after a few seconds, she nodded slightly.

He raised his hand. The teacher acknowledged him without looking away from the board. "Do you need to use the restroom too, Uryuu?"

"Actually, I'm getting a migraine, and it's making it difficult to concentrate."

"Just go to the nurse. Make sure you get the notes from someone," Fujioka-sensei said. Uryuu was a wonderful student, too. She was fairly confident that he could make up the notes.

"I'm not sure I can get there by myself...I'm a little dizzy…" he said, standing and wobbling a little to demonstrate his point.

The teacher sighed. "Will someone help Uryuu to the nurse?"

Tatsuki stood. "I will."

"Thank you, Tatsuki."

As they left, Keigo's muffled protests could be heard. "Hey, you never let me go to the nurse when I have a headache! Favoritism! Favoritism…!"

…..

Ulquiorra could tell the woman was nearing, so he waited outside the school building, leaning against one of the numerous trees outside.

His trip had been rather interesting, as he had spent much of it examining the ways the humans moved along the different roads they made. They had paths made of some sort of white stone that they walked along in throngs. Between the two white paths was a wider black road that seemed to be reserved for their machines. And then that black road was divided up into even more paths by painted stripes. Lining the paths, crammed into every open space, were their buildings, square and clean cut, reaching several hundred feet up into the air. He found that he liked the sharp lines of the buildings. He vaguely wondered why they needed so many different ones instead of just building one larger one, like Las Noches.

His mind began wandering to different subjects. He began thinking about his situation, about where he was and what had happened to him. It was obvious that he had grown much weaker than he had been before. He knew for a fact that he was no longer able to sense reiatsu very precisely. He had observed that he could no longer use sonido or create paths of reiatsu so he could run through the air. He could tell without even trying that he no longer had enough hierro to block a sword attack with his bare hands, or enough strength to rip the tree he was leaning against from the ground, like he once could. He was even starting to get ailments that only human souls would get, like his earlier headache and the stiffness that came from sitting still for too long.

There were other changes as well. As a hollow, he had felt emotions, of course, but they had always been either muted or what humans would consider negative. Anger, ambition, loathing, disgust, despair, emptiness, pain. He knew them all. He had felt content and proud before, but only in small spells. And it was the sort of contentedness and pride that came from the knowledge of cleanly defeating a rival or surviving another day.

Now that he was a whole, a much broader range of emotions was accessible. In this world, there were things that actually stimulated _positive_ emotions, and he found that they were much more easily felt and, disturbingly enough, enjoyed. And so far most of them were centered around the woman. He found that her presence was easily tolerable and, at a stretch, enjoyable. The sight of her tears had awoken several emotions. Dissatisfaction with himself and slight disgust at her weakness, while at the same time, he wished to rip apart whatever being had upset her.

And her smile…he didn't even want to try and sort through the emotional dust storm that had stirred up.

It was all too confusing. How did she manage to awaken emotions that had lain dormant in him for centuries? Why was it only her? Right now, he wasn't completely sure he had the answers.

A none-too-gentle poke pulled him off his train of thought and brought him back to the present. Unsurprisingly, the woman was standing right in front of him. He stared at her levelly, waiting for her to say something.

She sighed. "Ulquiorra, you can't just come here while I'm in class…"

"I see no reason why I should not be allowed to come here," he said flatly.

"I have classes, notes, tests! I need to keep my grades up if I want to get into a good college. I can't be watching out for you while I'm doing all that."

Although he appeared slightly confused, he replied. "Onna, I do not believe I require your supervision. And you did not answer my question. Your friends have been stripped of their power, they will be unable to see me."

"Uryuu probably could. And if you decided you were bored and wandered off, I couldn't just run out of class and go after you. It upsets the teachers, and I have to copy my notes from Tatsuki, then I don't do as well on the tests and…" She could tell this wasn't registering at all. She let out a breath, and tried to think of a way to explain the educational system in words Ulquiorra might understand. "We come to school every day to be taught certain things we will need later in our lives. We have several lessons and then we have assessments of our abilities to make sure we learned something. And if we do well in our assessments we can move up, and get good jobs so we can live comfortably." She prayed he would understand.

She could tell Ulquiorra was rolling this concept around in his head, examining it, analyzing it. Finally, he said, "I still do not understand why I should not be permitted to observe these…lessons."

"Well-" Just then, she heard the doors to the school open and saw Tatsuki and Uryuu come out. The pair froze on the steps.

Ulquiorra could tell that the two humans could see him. He recognized the boy as the Quincy whose hand he had cut off. He didn't know the girl that stood with the Quincy, but she was radiating so much hostility that he could almost feel it. As a precaution, he stepped in front of the woman protectively, ready for anything.

The air was felt tensed and stretched thin, as if a single careless word or action could result in a brawl.

Uryuu spoke first, addressing Ulquiorra. "What are you doing here?"

Ulquiorra met the younger man's cool gaze evenly. "I am not sure myself. Perhaps you should ask the onna. She called me here."

Before Uryuu could answer, Tatsuki cut in. "You _called _him here?" Of course, this had to be the guy that Orihime had been talking about ever since the war ended. The he was addressing her friend, though, irritated her to no end. What kind of jerk goes around calling people by their _gender? _

But even if he had been the most polite gentleman under the sun, there was still something about him that Tatsuki instantly mistrusted, something about him that was vaguely familiar, and it wasn't just that she recognized him from Orihime's stories. There was an _aura _around him that she felt she should recognize. Suddenly, she remembered. She met the green-eyed man's gaze full on, her eyes blazing. He didn't flinch, sending her a gaze as cold as hers was furious.

Orihime seemed to sense that this was about to erupt into violence. She moved out from behind Ulquiorra but before she could take another step, Tatsuki was shouting. "I know who you are! You were here with that other guy, the huge one!"

"Arisawa-san-" Uryuu began but was cut off as Tatsuki rounded on him furiously.

"Don't 'Arisawa-san' me! They _killed_ two of the kids in our grade, and lots of others too, completely innocent people!"

"Tatsuki-chan, Ulquiorra didn't do that-"

She turned to face Orihime. "Look, I know you think this guy is some sort of saint, Orihime, but he isn't. Just because he didn't let you die in the horrible place doesn't mean he's suddenly a good person." Orihime flinched a little; she didn't like to be reminded of Las Noches.

"That's enough, both of you. We should inform Ichigo and Chad of Ulquiorra-san's presence here, and _talk_ about this over lunch," he said, giving Tatsuki a loaded look. She didn't speak again, but the glares she sent back over her shoulder spoke loudly enough.

_One step out of line, and I'll send you back to that dead place you came from. _

**See, that's not really a cliffhanger. I'm being kind for once. **

**R&R please. Reviewers get an unlimited supply of patience, for dealing with little siblings or perhaps FF authors that don't update. XP **


	9. End Replay

**Ok, so it's a few days late, don't kill me please. I didn't want to try and write under the influence of those painkillers…They made me pretty loopy. **

**Because it's so late this time, I made it longer than usual, just for my wonderful reviewers. You guys make me so happy…:'D **

**I'm sorry if patience is a crappy gift, I couldn't think of anything better, but I have a good one this time. **

**Anyways, patience goes to Xylexia, soulspirit18, G. Ai Inoue, frawg360, Fanime-Sensei, anony, WestAnimeBrigade, Tozase-Murcielago, , SecretName, and Tolkien'sInkwell. Also, thanks to Sylvertongue for struggling with their laptop just long enough to post a review. ^_^ **

**Big huge humongous thank you to DaWuffy, Cream-Bunny, InugamiGod, Aurora Marija, Toph the Trickster, WestAnimeBrigade, frawg360, Darth Vicious, Tolkien'sInkwell, Sylvertongue, pinkrose1122, blackshadow878, Another Face, PrincessElise320, and Lili012 for favoriting/alerting! **

**Wow, that took forever to type. XD I'm happy that it did, thanks a lot you guys. **

**Not a single person reviewed the author's note, I'm amazed. I figured telling people not too would just make them review even more…XD**

**Alright Chad, read the disclaimer please. ^_^**

**C: 3R15UK0UM31 doesn't own Bleach.**

**Me: In four words, no I do not! And I said so. So don't sue. Please. I don't want to be sued. That would suck. A whole lot. **

**Enjoy the chapter (now that it's out)! **

**End Replay **

"And when I got home, he was just sitting there like he'd been waiting for me the whole time. He said I had called him there, but I'm not really sure how I did that…" Orihime looked around at each of her friends before she continued. "I was really surprised to see him, of course, but then I found out that he didn't remember anything at all from Hueco Mundo or anything before that either, just his name. And right then, one of Urahara-san's flying message pies came in through my window and exploded all over my wall! I was worried it might stain, but the message said it would come off. Urahara-san knew about Ulquiorra being there and wanted us both to go down to the shop, so we did. We talked for a while, and the next day Urahara-san did some weird experiment on Ulquiorra that helped him get his memories back, so now he remembers all the stuff up until he…" She struggled briefly with the last word. "…died. Now Urahara-san is making him a gigai that'll stabilize his reiatsu so he doesn't turn into a hollow again because that would really suck, to go through all that just to turn into a hollow again, and that's about it really…" Her voice trailed off into an awkward silence.

She was sitting with her friends on the roof of the school; despite it being lunchtime, no one had touched their food. It had turned out that Ichigo and Chad had just enough spiritual power left to be able to see Ulquiorra; she could almost feel their pointed stares now that she no longer had her storytelling to distract her. Ichigo, Tatsuki, Chad, Uryuu…they were her best friends, but the looks they gave her made her feel like the enemy.

Ichigo was the first to voice his thoughts. With a grave expression, he asked, "…What do you mean, you 'called' him here?"

Orihime thought about it for a moment before answering. "I don't really know, that's just what Ulquiorra told me…"

"Perhaps Ulquiorra-san could better explain what he meant by saying you called him here," Uryuu said, switching his gaze to the emerald-eyed man.

Ulquiorra returned the calculating gaze levelly. "It is as I said. Her energy compelled me to travel to that particular spot, although at the time I was not aware that the presence belonged to the onna."

Ichigo scoffed. "The Ulquiorra I fought wouldn't have just followed some random energy off into unknown territory."

Ulquiorra locked his frosty glare with the teen's burning gaze. "I did not have much of a choice in the matter. The energy was familiar, and in the state I was in I could not afford to waste time with aimless wandering."

"It isn't really important what he would've done," Uryuu interrupted, adjusting his glasses. "What matters now is that Ulquiorra-san is here, and since Urahara-san is making him a gigai, he's obviously going to be here for a while. First and foremost, we need to decide where he's going to stay."

Tatsuki spoke up first. "Don't these…visitors usually stay with the mad scientist?"

"Yeah, they do," Ichigo answered. "Besides, Hat 'n Clogs gave Ulquiorra his memory back, so it's only fair to make him take responsibility for his actions."

Uryuu nodded. "I agree. Leaving him at Urahara-san's shop would be best. Urahara-san has the technology necessary to keep him stable and the influence to temporarily divert Soul Society if things go wrong."

Chad grunted in agreement.

All eyes then turned to Orihime. She was silent.

"What do you think, Inoue-san?" Uryuu prompted.

She looked up. Finally, she said, "I think you should all stop talking about Ulquiorra like he isn't here. He isn't a little kid who can have his fate decided for him, and I think we should ask him where _he _wants to stay." She looked at the former Espada. "Where would you like to stay, Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra debated this issue momentarily. Logically, he agreed with the Quincy. He knew that staying at the Urahara Shouten would be far safer and more convenient should anything happen. However, he found he still felt that his first obligation was towards the onna's safety. He enjoyed her company, to a certain extent, and found her presence to be far more tolerable than the blonde scientist's. Even though the environment she lived in was far from his ideal, he much preferred the small, brightly colored abode to Urahara's odd store. He wondered briefly when he had started basing his decisions on emotion instead of logic.

"I would prefer to stay with the onna," he said, his words tearing through the tight layer of tension that had built over the small group.

Tatsuki stood immediately. "No way, out of the question!"

Ichigo jumped to his feet also, his loud protests drowning out the rest of what she had to say. "You can't seriously expect us to let you stay _alone_ with _him!_"

Orihime stared at the ground, unable to meet her friends' glares. Ulquiorra, however, met their anger head on. Even from his position on the ground, he managed to coldly stare down the two enraged teens. "This shouting is only drawing needless attention to you and further upsetting the onna," he said frostily.

"How dare you think you know what she's feeling-"

"Ichigo," Tatsuki cut in quietly, laying a restraining hand on his arm. "As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Getting all worked up about things isn't going to solve them." She sat down slowly.

Ichigo's eyes still burned furiously, but he followed the shorter girl's lead, taking his seat on the roof.

Uryuu spoke again once Ichigo had had a few minutes to cool off. "Ulquiorra-san has made it clear that he would prefer to stay with Inoue-san. I think he should be allowed to stay with her once his gigai is completed, but until then he should probably stay at the Urahara Shouten."

"We don't know what his intentions are," Ichigo said bitingly. "For all we know this could all still be part of Aizen's plan. I wouldn't be surprised to find out he'd left some 'Just-In-Case-I-Die' plans for his most loyal Espada." Ichigo practically spat the last three words.

Uryuu opened his mouth to speak but Ulquiorra beat him to it. "In Hueco Mundo, loyalty is a farce. The only reason any hollow would act loyal to another being would be to prolong its own survival and use the other being as a stepping stone to gain more power. That is all Aizen was to me, and to the other Espada as well. He guaranteed our survival for another day."

"See? Ulquiorra isn't our enemy any more. The war is over and Aizen is dead. I know that better than any of you." Orihime's voice shook slightly on the last statement.

Not wanting to upset her friend further, Tatsuki tried to find a way to word her next statement that wouldn't sound blatantly accusatory. "From what you've told me about him, he wouldn't choose your house over Urahara's just because, 'Hime. He must have some kind of…reason, or some kind of plan."

"Well, maybe you should ask him that instead of just assuming he's up to no good." Orihime shot a glance back at Ulquiorra.

He gave her a flat look. "I believe I already stated my opinions, onna, and tried my best to dispel your companions' doubts. They simply choose not to listen to sense."

This only served to bring on a whole new wave of quarreling. Finally, Chad stood silently. All eyes turned to him and the arguing stopped almost instantly. "Orihime should be able to do what she wants without us fighting over it. She can take care of herself and make her own decisions, and we should support them and her as much as we can." This speech left most members of the group stunned. Chad sat back down, and began to quietly eat his lunch.

Ulquiorra chose this moment of silence to speak up, unaffected by Chad's speech. "I agree to stay with the scientist until my gigai is prepared as it will be more convenient. However, afterwards, I will take up residence with the onna for the remainder of my stay here."

Slowly, Uryuu nodded his assent. Ichigo grimaced, unhappy with the situation as a whole, but agreed grudgingly.

Tatsuki rolled her eyes and turned to address her lifelong friend. "All right, I won't beat him up for this, but if he steps even an inch out of line or does anything to hurt you, 'Hime, you tell me. By the time I'm done with him, he'll be begging to go back to that godforsaken desert he came from."

With the matter settled, everyone dug into their lunches, eating quickly so they could finish before their next class.

…

The teacher's voice droned on in the background. Orihime caught a few words about the Black Plague and a population decrease in Medieval Europe, but most of the lecture went in one ear and out the other. The cool green stare she could feel burning into her skin definitely wasn't helping her concentrate. She was having enough trouble as it was without him watching her so intently. _I never should've agreed to let him watch my classes…_

She could tell that Ulquiorra's presence was disturbing her friends as well. Ichigo was fidgeting and trying not to look back at the diminutive man leaning against the wall in the back of the classroom. Tatsuki was fiddling nervously with a loose string on her woven bracelet and her eyes never left the notes on her desk. Uryuu was writing furiously, obviously trying to distract himself. Orihime however was too tired to really be bothered by it. She almost felt secure, like he was watching her back, protecting her…

Orihime's tired mind wasn't even trying to pick out phrases anymore; the teacher's lecture had become nothing more than a mushy, indistinct mumbling. The words on the page in front of her began to swim. She was tired…her trip to Soul Society had really worn her out, and she had barely slept at all the night before. The temperature in the classroom was just right; her eyelids were beginning to droop shut. The teacher's voice had become a far-away, almost comforting mumble. She propped her elbow on her desk and rested her head against it, struggling to stay awake. But her exhausted body had other plans, and she quickly drifted into a light sleep.

…

The loud ringing of the bell jolted Orihime out of her nap. She looked around almost frantically. _What if the teacher saw me sleeping and as a punishment she left me here in the school building all night and this bell is really the first bell for tomorrow's classes? _Her friends were all leaving class, and a few of the notes from the previous lecture were still on the board. She let out the breath she'd been holding and began to gather her things. _I'm going to have to get those notes from Tatsuki, and-_

"These lessons seem pointless," said a cool voice.

She jumped; she had forgotten he was there. The classroom had emptied quickly; they were the only two left. She shoved a few binders in her bookbag. "Humans value their history more than hollows. We've learned that history tends to repeat itself. We learn about history so that we don't make the same mistakes over and over again."

He raised an eyebrow slightly. "It does not seem to stop you."

She laughed quietly; he had a point. She zipped her bookbag shut and walked out of the classroom. Even though she couldn't see him, she felt Ulquiorra's presence following her like a silent shadow.

She made it out of the school building uneventfully, only pausing to wave goodbye to Tatsuki and Uryuu, who had practices after school.

Ulquiorra was still walking right behind her, and she found it felt a little awkward. She wanted to strike up a conversation, but she knew it would feel odd to try and talk to him over her shoulder.

She stopped suddenly, but he didn't miss a beat and stopped too, exactly the same distance behind her as he had been. She pouted slightly, but started walking again, faster than she had been going before. She stopped again; she was starting to get strange looks from the other pedestrians. Ulquiorra missed a step and ended up closer to her than before; she reveled in the small triumph, grinning like a 5-year-old at Christmastime. But he still wasn't walking next to her.

She tried stopping a few more times, only to find that she couldn't even get him to misstep anymore. Finally, exasperated, she turned around and said, "Why won't you walk next to me?"

He tilted his head to the side slightly (a gesture that almost made her want to squeal at its cuteness) and replied in his usual monotone. "I did not know that was what you wished me to do. Furthermore, this vantage point allows me to…'watch your back'." He sounded almost hesitant, slightly unsure if the phrase was correct.

She couldn't help but giggle at his newly acquired phrase; it didn't seem like something he'd normally say. He'd obviously been listening carefully to his human enemies while he fought in Las Noches. She wouldn't be surprised if he'd picked up more slang from the day spent at her school, too.

"We're not in a war anymore, Ulquiorra," she said. "You don't have to watch out for people trying to kill me here. And why would I be stopping randomly if I didn't want you to catch up with me?"

He closed the distance, walking up beside her. She started to walk again, and he fell perfectly into step.

"I figured something mundane had caught your attention. You often stopped speaking in the middle of sentences and stared at the walls in Las Noches," he finally said.

It took her a moment to remember the question she'd asked, but once she did, the truth of it made her laugh. It would be just like her to stop in the middle of the street, transfixed by something shiny on the ground or a bird flying nearby.

Ulquiorra watched Orihime's face curiously as she laughed; he was familiar with laughter, of course, but this seemed very different than the more maniacal laughter of Grimmjow or Szayel. It was…lighter, and the sound more pleasant. Her smile was absolutely radiant in the golden late afternoon light; her eyes seemed to shine brighter than usual, twinkling with unbridled happiness. He felt a warm feeling tingling to life in his chest in response. Just for a moment, his traitorous body acted on its own; one corner of his lips twitched up in what could only be the beginnings of a smile.

Almost instantly, his normal flat expression returned. Luckily, Orihime had been watching the ground and hadn't seen him. The reaction worried him slightly; never had his body reacted without his prompting. He would have to be more vigilant now that he was surrounded by these new stimuli.

Orihime was chattering on about everything that came to mind, completely ignorant of the strange looks she was getting. Ulquiorra simply soaked up what she said silently. He found it fascinating how she could talk so quickly, changing subjects without a moment's notice, and yet he found that the transitions didn't throw him off, nor did the conversation lose its coherency. If Ulquiorra believed in such things, he would say it almost seemed…magical. He wondered if all human conversations proceeded this way or if it was simply a talent of the woman's.

His steps were still perfectly timed with hers. Orihime was enjoying the warm afternoon; the golden sunlight that fell lightly on her cheeks without being too hot, the gentle breeze that brushed lightly across her skin and rippled through her hair, the birdsong that she could hear now that she had turned off the busier streets. She found that she had missed this natural beauty; in the past two years, she had never once thought to thoroughly enjoy her surroundings, or even really look at them. Everywhere she turned, she was seeing buildings that she could've sworn weren't there a week ago, trees that had grown much taller and wider. She felt like she'd missed a huge part of her life, too caught up in her mourning to try and enjoy the day-to-day routine like she once had.

She stopped walking; they were at Ulquiorra's turn off. If he followed the small alleyway, it would soon take him to Urahara's shop. "I guess this is where you need to leave, huh…"

He made no move to leave; he could hear in her voice that there was more she wanted to say, and so he waited.

She realized that right then…everything was just so…_perfect._ The weather was mild, the skies were a clear azure, the clouds were fluffy and white…and Ulquiorra was standing next to her, _voluntarily_ accompanying her, alive and well and just as dangerously beautiful as she remembered.

Everything just felt so amazingly right, and complete, like it hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. She felt like she'd gotten something back, like she could finally move on to the next scene after being stuck in a replay loop for too long.

She realized she was grinning like a fool but found she didn't care. She wanted to laugh and sing and walk along the tops of the fences and dance in the middle of the street. Fortunately, she did none of these, but instead continued talking to her silent companion.

"...It's just such a gorgeous day, don't you think…?" She looked up at him with glowing eyes and an overjoyed grin still plastered on her face.

He felt something come to life in him at the sight of her, something that compelled him to really take a look around and try to see what she saw. He saw the sun which he still considered too bright, the birds whose songs only served to shatter what could've been a peaceful silence, and clouds amassing on the horizon that probably signaled a coming storm. But he found that even though he couldn't see the same beauty in the surrounding as she managed to see, he could only agree with her when she gave him a look like that.

He nodded his agreement slowly, letting his eyes drift shut. "It is…pleasant."

She laughed in pure joy and in her happiness, laced her fingers through his.

_How strange…_ He was still getting used to the idea that another being touching him didn't exactly mean they wanted to kill him. Despite how odd the behavior itself was, he found the novel sensations to be fascinating. He stared at their intertwined hands, observing the contrasting colors, noting how much warmer and softer her skin was against his calloused palms. He could just barely feel a pulse in her palm, and he felt his own, newly found heartbeat stir and begin to match hers. Her touch stirred up memories of the dome, her hand just barely managing to brush against his before going right through it, leaving her clutching nothing but ashes…

He returned to the present, and found himself wondering what he had really been referring to as pleasant…the weather, or the fascinating woman who stood beside him, practically glowing with joy and seeming to hold a light of her very own.

…

Orihime left her house that morning especially early. She planned to meet Tatsuki before school started to get the notes from the lecture she slept through.

She was walking faster than usual down the street, bookbag slung almost carelessly over one shoulder, a piece of toast (with red bean jam) in one hand and a water bottle in the other. She tried her best to avoid bumping into people or tripping over any objects in her path.

She could see the school building up ahead, just a little farther-

"Onna," a cool voice said from directly behind her.

She let out a startled squeak and dropped her toast; it landed jelly side down. She sighed and picked it up before she continued walking, knowing Ulquiorra would fall into step beside her.

"Your educational building will not open for another 45 minutes, onna," he said, never once looking at her.

She tossed the half-eaten piece of toast in a trash can as she passed. "I kinda fell asleep in history class yesterday, so I need to get the notes from Tatsuki. She agreed to meet me at one of the tables outside the building before school started."

After a moment, he replied. "Your companion has not arrived yet, nor is she anywhere nearby."

"That's fine," Orihime said, setting her things down at one of the picnic tables. She sat down and pulled a light green binder and a pen as well as a thick textbook out of her bookbag.

Ulquiorra chose not to sit, opting instead to lean against a nearby tree. "The history lecture," he began. She looked at him curiously. "That was the speech about Medieval Europe, correct?"

She blinked. "Uh…I think so, yeah. Do you remember any of it?"

He closed his eyes slowly, obviously not too interested in where the conversation was going. "All of it. But I still fail to see how learning about events that happened many centuries ago on the opposite side of your world could possibly help you to survive."

By now, Orihime had her binder opened and was trying to find the notes she had managed to take. Once she found them, she asked again. "You remember all of it? Word for word?"

He sighed quietly; if she hadn't been listening she wouldn't have heard it. "I believe I already answered that question, onna."

She thought on this for a moment before asking timidly, "Could you, um…recite it for me…? Please…?"

Without even opening his eyes or shifting from his position, he repeated word for word the entire hour long lecture. Orihime found it funny how he even included the teacher addressing the class and pointing out things on the board, even though the board wasn't there.

Tatsuki arrived just in time to hear the end of the lecture. Orihime waved to her excitedly.

"Tatsuki-chan! Guess what Ulquiorra can do!"

…

The days flew by; they began to fall into a set routine. Orihime would come to school at about the same time every day and Ulquiorra would be waiting silently by the door to the school building. She chatted with him for a while until her friends came, and then she talked with them, trying to draw Ulquiorra more and more into the group discussions. Tatsuki and especially Ichigo were still a little edgy around him, but Uryuu and Chad got along with him ok, since they tended not to say much anyways.

The school day usually ran without a hitch, and in the evenings, Orihime would walk with Ulquiorra until he turned off to go to the Urahara Shouten.

She occasionally thought back to that first time they had walked home together, and it never failed to bring a light blush to her cheeks. He hadn't shoved her away when she held his hand; he probably didn't realize the significance it held in human culture. He had probably just tolerated the contact and put it down as another of her strange idiosyncrasies. It wouldn't mean anything to him. Why would it? She was sure that he just thought of her as someone he could tolerate to be around, someone who could see him and didn't want to kill him, and that was it.

She tried to avoid thinking about him; she threw herself into her schoolwork, and most of her free time was spent catching up with her friends. She felt like she hadn't really _seen _them in two years. Her grades improved and everyone was glad to have the Orihime they all knew and loved back.

It was now two weeks since she had returned from her failed rescue mission in Soul Society. She was enjoying the steady rhythm of the daily routine, so it threw her a bit when Ulquiorra wasn't waiting for her outside the school building like he usually was.

_Oh well, _she thought. _Urahara's probably doing some experiment. Or maybe Ulquiorra overslept. _Just the thought was enough to set her giggling.

The morning passed and there was still no sign of Ulquiorra. Soon, the first bell was ringing and she was sitting down in the classroom.

The teacher walked in and, after calling roll, began to read the morning announcements.

"…So everybody be sure to wish Fujioka-sensei a happy birthday today. Also, Hitachiin-san, the principle wants to see you and your brother during lunch today, as he wishes to discuss the…water balloon incident." The teacher paused for a moment and cleared her throat before continuing. "Also, today we have a new student joining us."

This news received an equal mix of groans and fervent whispers. New students in this class tended to be freaks or just plain scary.

"He's a foreign exchange student from Spain, so I hope all of you will help him along here. Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?" She seemed to speak to the open door. After a moment, the new student walked in. A collective murmur went through the class; he was definitely interesting.

He was about average height, leanly built, and his hair was black like many other people's. What really stuck out were those piercing green eyes and his almost unnaturally pale skin. Wasn't Spain the land of sun and sea and warm breezes?

So that was where Ulquiorra had been; off getting his gigai. Apparently Urahara thought it would be wise to enroll him in their high school. After all, strange kids wouldn't even get a second glance in their class.

He stared the class down coldly. All murmuring stopped almost immediately. His gaze locked with Orihime's; she nodded reassuringly.

"Very well. My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer." Orihime motioned for him to go on, say something else. He thought for a moment before speaking again. "If any of you choose to lay a hand on Inoue Orihime, I will be forced to kill you."

…**This could get a little awkward. XP **

**And yes, the two Hitachiin's _were _a reference to another anime. Who knows what it is? :D**

**Again, if anyone seems OOC at all, please tell me. I'm having trouble writing some of them, so…**

**Constructive criticism always welcome. ^_^ **

**Reviewers get tickets to the live Gorillaz world tour! **

**Oh, whoops, they already sold out. Crap…T.T **

**Alright then, reviewers get a no-expenses-paid trip to Hershey, Pennsylvania, home of the world famous Hershey's Chocolate plant! Plus, all the traffic lights there are shaped like Hershey Kisses. XD And if that doesn't brighten your day, nothing will. **

**R&R please! **


	10. Normal

**Ok, so I lied. The traffic lights aren't shaped like Hershey's Kisses. The streetlights are. XD And I have a couple of pictures, too, for you non-believers. **

**http:/ galenfry. com/penna/hershey15. jpg**

**http:/ americanindian. net/kusi/trivia/hershey_PA. jpg**

**Remove the spaces. **

**Apparently, Hershey also has its own chocolate-based theme park as well. XD **

**On to other news, THIS IS MY TENTH CHAPTER! :D I'm so, so, so excited with how many reviews this has gotten and how much interest there's been in this story! And I'm so grateful to all those people who've been with me all the way, and I'm so very grateful to my beta who's helped me out on the past few chapters. **

**Grand totals:**

**Hits: 5,617 last I checked**

**Alerts/Favorites: 80-ish. Or something like that. **

**Reviews: Over 100, and that's all that matters. 12 per chapter, average. ^-^**

**Thank you to: talkstoangels77, Coolyb, Xylexia, RetroMayhem, Tozase-Murcielago, Sylvertongue, Daheath, anime-randomizrXIV, Hitsugaya'sWife3, Shattered-Shinobi1313, alanabanani, WestAnimeBrigade, G. Ai Inoue, Foxgrl18, readingQueen, Fanime-Sensei, eelgirl13, and Sightspeed for reviewing! Here's your plane tickets! :D Have fun! *hands out tickets* **

**Huggles and happiness to: RetroMayhem, kitjos, DarkAngel2098, Shattered-Shinobi1313, QANARA IRANOV, Lady Evelynn, Heaven's Cataract, Foxgrl18, readingQueen, Alister's Girlfriend, Mello's-Dark-Chocolate, TTIOT, and Sightspeed for favoriting/alerting. ^-^ Thanks sooo much for hanging in there! **

**Yes, it took me a month. Part of that was just the beta-ing process, which occasionally takes a while. Don't want any typos slipping by. :P**

**I'm going to warn you, updates are going to become much less frequent as the full workload of tenth grade comes flying at me, along with a sh*tload of extracurricular activities. I'll try my best for all of you, and for this poor story. IT SHALL LIVE ON! If you feel like sending me a PM and saying "GET YOUR LAZY BUTT IN GEAR", or maybe you have suggestions for later bits of the plot, or maybe you just feel like talking about your pet cat, I generally answer stuff pretty quick and conversation of any kind is perfectly fine and somewhat appreciated. ^-^ **

***coughs* Alright, so I think this may be the last time I have a Bleach character reading my disclaimer. I've kinda run out of ones I like, so after this, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I've posted a poll on my profile, so vote like the wind! **

**Anyways, as a tribute to a character I didn't really appreciate until he was dead (or at least in great danger of dying), I shall allow Gin's ghost to read the disclaimer. **

**G: 3R15UK0UM31 doesn't own anythin'…**

**Me: Damn right I don't. It makes me sad sometimes…T.T **

**G: Umm…could someone do a konso real quick…?**

**Me: NO! You're staying right here! D: Anyways, enjoy the chapter. **

"**Normal"**

The classroom fell dangerously silent as all eyes instantly turned to Orihime. She felt a red hot blush creeping onto her cheeks. _Of course he had to go and say something like that, you should've seen this coming, well maybe not. I mean, I knew he was a little overprotective but I didn't really see this coming and OH CRAP EVERYONE'S LOOKING AT ME. Ok, ok, just keep cool, keep cool, and oh no, am I _blushing_? Um…um…what would Rukia do? She could totally just explain something like this away, no problem, what would she do, excuses, excuses…_

The silence had stretched out and murmurs were beginning to spread through the class.

"What a freak…"

"Did he just say he'd kill us…?"

"Man, five minutes in the class and he's already laying his claim on her!"

"The nerve…"

"Did I hear him right?"

The teacher was still staring at Orihime, obviously demanding an explanation for the strange new kid's unwarranted possessiveness.

Orihime laughed nervously, and tried her best not to stumble over her words. "Um, U-Ulquiorra and I met um, a few months ago, I was assigned to show him around, but, um, he still hasn't…hasn't really gotten the hang of the language yet! Uh, he's just a little, um, confused about the grammar and the words and stuff, so sometimes he says things that sound really strange, but he doesn't really mean it! He's really a nice guy, he's just having some trouble adjusting to stuff!" She tried her best to grin, but it felt horribly fake, even to her.

There were a few seconds of quiet murmuring before the class seemed to accept this and turned back, one by one, to contemplate the new kid again. She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and felt her tense muscles relax a bit.

The teacher cleared her throat, regaining control of the classroom. "You may choose a seat now, Ulquiorra."

He glanced at the available seats. One was on the opposite side of the room from Orihime's; the other was right in front of the class, and still far away from the woman's seat. He quickly decided that neither of those seats would do.

Ignoring the mixed looks he was getting from the class, Ulquiorra steadily made his way over to the seat right next to Orihime's. The boy sitting there at first gave him a glare that clearly said _Back off; seat taken._ However, he withered quickly under the green-eyed man's frosty glare. The unfortunate boy gathered his belongings as quickly as possible and, still pinned under the new student's gaze, slinked away with his tail between his legs and sat in one of the empty seats. Ulquiorra sat down and waited for the lesson to commence as if nothing had happened.

The murmurs began again in earnest, filled with pity, consternation, and even a little awe.

Even the normally optimistic Orihime had to admit that this wasn't the clean start she'd imagined for him. She rubbed a hand over her eyes and looked tiredly up at the white board, where the teacher had already scribbled some notes. _This is going to be a long, long, long day…_

…

Orihime wasn't sure she had EVER been so happy for lunchtime to roll around. The rest of her classes had run without a hitch, with the exception that Ulquiorra stayed almost uncomfortably close the whole time, and kept glancing over in her direction. Of course, this kept her friends from approaching her at all, instead huddling in small groups and murmuring about that creepy new student with the green eyes and the cold personality who hung so close to Orihime that they might as well have been joined at the hip. She was certain that they were already being considered a couple. She hated having to sift through rumors like that, but part of being a teenager was learning to bear teenage drama.

Orihime walked out of the building, colorfully-wrapped bento clutched to her chest, and looked for a nice shady spot to sit. Her friends had extended their usual invitation, if a bit more hesitantly than usual, but the last thing she really wanted to do was talk with them like everything was normal.

It most certainly was _not_.

She placed her lunch under a tall maple tree and sat down, noticing that the leaves were beginning to change; fall wasn't too far away. The air was warm, but a cool breeze was blowing gently, making the temperature perfect. _I'm not really that hungry, _she thought, letting her eyes slip shut as she waited for Ulquiorra.

Her lunch was still untouched when he appeared a few minutes later. Never one to initiate conversation, he sat directly in front of her and waited for her to say something.

Something was off, he could tell. She knew he was there, so why wasn't she saying anything? Normally she would instantly begin to talk once he arrived, rambling on for the entire hour that she was supposed to be eating. Now she refused to even acknowledge his presence, and he found that it irritated him.

After ten minutes of silence, he finally spoke. "Onna." She didn't respond. "Why are you refusing to speak to me?"

"Shhh, I'm enjoying the weather."

He blinked; the answer had thrown him off a bit. "I do not see how my speaking disrupts your perception of temperature."

Orihime sighed and looked at him, through with her Zen moment for now. She was ready for this. Operation: Teach Ulquiorra How To Be a Normal Human was go. "Ulquiorra?" He tilted his head slightly to show he was listening."You know, you can't just walk into a classroom and tell everyone you'll kill them if they come near me. Violence isn't as…commonplace in normal human conversations as it is in Hueco Mundo." He raised a doubtful eyebrow at this, but didn't comment. "Now all my friends are going to be afraid to talk to me until you show them that you aren't going to beat them up for it."

"I was simply informing them that it would be in their best interest to keep their distance. You should be more concerned for your own safety."

"Well, it's not like my friends are going to just turn around one day and randomly attack me! They're my friends and I trust them. Human relationships are based on trust and companionship, not fear of one another. You can't just try to scare people into submission here. Now that you have that gigai, you're going to have to try and fit in, and that means watching how humans act towards one another and trying not to do anything…out of the ordinary until you understand, ok?"

His eyebrows furrowed together slightly. "I assume the human meaning of 'ordinary' is different from the ordinary I know as well."

Orihime struggled to think of a way to define ordinary. "Well, if people try to talk to you, you should, um, actually listen to them and respond, not just sit there soaking it up like you usually do. And if they ask you where you're from, uh…lie. You're supposed to be a foreign exchange student, so they may ask you to speak some Spanish for them and things like that…uh…"

Anyone who knew him well enough could see by the slight frown and unfocused gaze that he was seriously considering what she had said. Really, she considered the amount of thought he was putting into it to be ludicrous, but she sat in tense silence, waiting for a response. He seemed to notice the almost pleading look she was giving him and nodded in understanding.

"I want you to say it," she insisted childishly, her arms folded across her chest.

"I will not threaten to harm your friends or classmates, nor will I attack them unless they initiate the conflict. I will also attempt to learn about human society and conform to their…social guidelines." In reality, a part of him was still completely fascinated with the strange beings called humans. Of course, now he technically was one. It was the ultimate chance to learn about the species, and while the part of him that had enjoyed the power and certainty that came with being an Espada was disgusted with the new form, the part that had led him to reach out to the woman in his last moments had wholeheartedly embraced humanity in all its weakness and fallibility.

Orihime's stomach growled angrily, reminding her that it _was_ lunchtime, after all. She unwrapped her bento, almost hyperaware of Ulquiorra's eyes following her movements, and pulled out her chopsticks. "Itadakimasu!*" she exclaimed, digging into her lunch.

Ulquiorra sat across from her silently. He hadn't spoken since she had started eating. She hadn't really noticed until then how…different he looked as a human. He was no longer the chalky white he used to be, but was still unnaturally pale. His features managed to maintain some of the sharp, inhuman beauty they'd had before, but in the warm autumnal sunlight of Earth, dressed in normal human clothing with no sign of the blue tear streaks that had once trailed across his cheeks, he looked…well…not exactly harmless, but definitely not deadly. Not even really intimidating, from the angle she was looking.

The pure normalcy of the situation threw her a bit. For a moment, she found it impossible to think of Ulquiorra as her former captor and tormentor; she found that it felt like he was a friend, someone she could really trust and rely on.

She realized she had stopped eating, and had been staring at Ulquiorra's face for longer than was really comfortable for either of them. An awkward pause stretched out while Orihime's cheeks slowly grew redder and redder until she resembled an embarrassed lobster.

The silence was broken by Ulquiorra's stomach growling, demanding nutrition. Orihime couldn't help it; she burst out into a mad giggling fit, trying, and failing, to suppress her amusement.

Ulquiorra glared briefly at his stomach before gave Orihime his characteristic flat look. She could tell he was just the tiniest bit irritated. "I fail to see anything funny about the lack of available sustenance."

Orihime, cheeks still red from laughing, handed him the unfinished remainder of her bento. "You can have the rest of this, I'm not really that hungry today." Her stomach chose that moment to speak up. She blushed slightly and looked at the ground.

"You require the nutrition more than me, onna," he said, his voice only holding the barest traces of emotion. The last thing he wanted to do was admit that he had no idea how to use the eating utensils she had offered him; and he had to admit, he was a bit intimidated by the appearance of the food. Even with his limited knowledge of human cuisine, the contents of the onna's bento hardly looked suitable for human consumption. "I'm sure you will not require me to make you eat here."

She smiled a little. Funny how something that once terrified her almost sounded like a misguided attempt at humor coming from the stoic former Espada. She picked at the rest of the food, feeling a bit guilty about eating it when she could still hear Ulquiorra's stomach growling from time to time.

Orihime stole a few glances at him while she ate. He didn't look half bad in the school uniform, even though the beige color clashed a bit with his pasty skin. The blandness of the fabric just made his viridian eyes even more noticeable. If that was even possible.

Ulquiorra suddenly spoke up, causing her train of thought to completely derail. "I cannot see how humans have any time to do anything when these bodies require such constant maintenance." His frown deepened as his stomach growled again, and he remembered the hour long lecture Yoruichi had given him on how to take care of his gigai. She snickered through the whole thing, although he had failed to see anything funny about his situation.

Orihime just laughed. "Well, if you were born a human, you would've grown up with it, and you'd know that even though we spend most of our time eating and sleeping and things like that, we still manage to be very productive." An idea occurred to her. "You must've been human at _some_ point, Ulquiorra. Don't you remember anything about it?"

"Onna, I am a being made up of thousands of souls. I could not possibly keep track of all of their separate memories."

She thought on that for a moment. "But…the more advanced hollows have one soul in charge of all the others, right? And that one soul would be your soul, the one that has your personality. Don't you remember anything from _your_ past?"

For a moment, he actually tried to remember. The look on her face…he couldn't say no to it. He really did try, but a dark haze seemed to hover over the memories; his mind shied away from the pain, instinctively afraid of the dark, and afraid of the uncertainty that came with being human.

His expression went as blank as a sheet of paper, and his voice, when he responded, sounded just as two-dimensional. "Hollows are empty creatures; we recall nothing of our former lives, nor do we recall the moment of our creation."

Orihime's face fell; she knew he was lying. He could tell from the way she was looking at him. But she let it drop.

The school bell rung, signaling the end of her lunch period. Ulquiorra stood and walked back into the building without a word. Orihime wondered for a moment about his strange behavior before realizing that the late bell for her next class had already rung.

…

Ulquiorra walked just behind Orihime, bookbag slung over his shoulder, only halfway listening to the young woman's rambling conversation. He found that he was having a very difficult time remembering anything from the time before he served Aizen, and the idea deeply disturbed him. It was the first time he'd really felt the lack of the memories, and the first time he'd really cared to think about them, but now that he realized they were gone, he felt as if he was missing a fundamental bit of himself. He did not enjoy lacking knowledge in general; lacking knowledge about himself was just that much more irritating.

He could tell that there was a lot of pain surrounding his earlier memories; it made sense. Hollows were born from the agony and despair of human souls that had lost all hope. He found that was very worried about the turmoil the memories might awaken.

Pathetic. Him, Ulquiorra Schiffer, worrying about emotions. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

"You're not even listening, are you?" Orihime said, bringing him back to reality. She was stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, disgruntled passerby giving her irritated looks before going around her. She was pointing out an oddly shaped cloud. "See? Doesn't that cloud look a dragon?"

He looked where she was pointing. After a moment, he recalled what dragons were, and what they looked like, and concluded that the cloud looked nothing like what the onna had described to him. "Onna, that cloud in no way resembles a dragon." He remembered that she seemed to enjoy this game; cloud-gazing. Looking for imaginary shapes in the clouds. Another of her strangely likeable idiosyncrasies. He had never quite gotten the hang of it; he simply couldn't find the fantastical things she saw in the clouds.

She sighed, exasperated. She looked around the sky until she found another suitable cloud. "Look at that one, Ulquiorra." He looked; it was just a cloud, thin and wispy like the infrequent desert clouds of Hueco Mundo. "What do you see?"

"I see a cloud, onna."

"You didn't really look at it," she said, pouting. "I want you to really _look _at it and then tell me what you see."

Idiotically enough, he found that he really couldn't refuse her, not when she had that look on her face. Normally, such childish actions would simply irritate him, but he found that with her it was…he wasn't sure what it was, really. Far from unpleasant, but not exactly pleasant either. Just…foreign. Sort of…a warmth spreading through his chest.

He sighed quietly, a sigh of defeat and resignation, and _really_ looked at the cloud. It was long and thin…whitish-gray, with a few other clouds nearby. It didn't really look like anything special. The longer he looked, though, the more familiar the shape seemed. It almost seemed to arrange itself, his mind filling in the blank spaces. He seemed to recall seeing something like it in Hueco Mundo…

When he blinked and looked again, he saw…

"…A snake…"

Orihime blinked, then looked at the cloud. She laughed delightedly. "Oh, wow, you're right! I can see the tail, and then that part's the head, and…"

Ulquiorra didn't hear a word she said, too amazed at what had just happened. He hadn't been able to see anything in the clouds before he'd gotten this body. Perhaps it was defective. Or perhaps it was simply a part of becoming human. He found he wasn't sure which it was; he wasn't sure he would ever get used to the uncertainty involved with living in this world.

"Oh, that's right, you're staying with me now!" Orihime chirped happily, as though she had only just remembered. Secretly, she had been looking forward to it since she'd seen Ulquiorra walk into the classroom in a gigai. She pulled out her cell phone and checked the time. The digital display read 4:00. After some quick math, she grabbed Ulquiorra's wrist and began pulling him along as she hurried towards her apartment. "If we don't get home soon, I won't have time to go to the supermarket and buy the ingredients I need for tonight's dinner, and then we'd end up having dinner really late, and then we'd be up really _really _late doing our homework, and when we woke up the next morning my alarm clock would probably be broken and we'd be a whole half a day late for school, and-"

"Onna," Ulquiorra interrupted quickly. "It is Friday."

Orihime stopped suddenly and if she hadn't been holding his wrist, Ulquiorra didn't doubt he would've run into her. He could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to remember what day it was and how many days it had been since Monday. Finally, she laughed brightly. "Oh, wow, you're right! I don't know how you can keep up with the weekdays, they all seem to just blend together for me."

She was still holding his wrist, her grip firm but not tight. Her fingers were warm and her palms were smooth and soft; she had never held a sword. She had never needed to, really, he reasoned. Her friends had always protected her and sheltered her, needlessly in his opinion.

He let his eyes wander to her fingers, long and thin. Her skin tone clashed pleasantly with his; he found the gentle pressure on his wrist to be almost comforting. He could feel his pulse where her fingers touched the bluish vein in his wrist; very faintly, he could feel her heartbeat in the palm of her hand, echoing his. He vaguely wondered what her pulse would feel like in other places and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to trail his fingers along every inch of her skin, just to see if it was all that soft, just to see if he could feel her heart racing beneath his fingertips. He felt something tightening in the pit of his stomach…

Orihime finally noticed that he hadn't moved or spoken, or really done anything. She traced his line of sight to her hand wrapped around his wrist, and she quickly let go, letting her hair fall over her face to hide her blush.

The sudden loss of contact seemed to snap Ulquiorra out of whatever trance he'd been in. As he walked ahead of her, Orihime couldn't help but notice that his posture was unusually rigid, even for him. She sighed, slightly hurt; he hadn't complained when she'd held his hand. Even now, he wasn't complaining, per se. But she could tell he was making a conscious effort to stay ahead of her, trying to avoid conversation and any further contact.

She trailed just behind Ulquiorra all the way back to her apartment, resembling for all the world a lost puppy.

…

Ulquiorra sat in the living room of Orihime's apartment, absentmindedly watching the commercials flashing over the T.V. screen. He was familiar with television, but in Las Noches, the screens hadn't ever been used for recreational purposes. There hadn't been any recreation, really, except for fighting.

However, despite the onna's explanation of the television's purpose, he failed to find any kind of entertainment in the programs being shown.

The onna in question was writing a shopping list, pausing every few minutes as she thought of more things she'd need for the week ahead. Finally she finished the extensive list and stood up, stepping between Ulquiorra and the TV screen, effectively getting his attention. "I'm going to the supermarket. I'll be back in an hour or so, so don't think I've been kidnapped and taken to another dimension or anything, m'k?"

He looked up at her blankly for a few moments before replying. "I fail to see why I cannot just go with you, onna."

"Well…you aren't very inconspicuous…especially not in that uniform. Didn't Urahara give you anything else to wear?"

"No."

"Well, he gave you that bookbag, right?"

"No."

"Then who gave it to you?"

"Yoruichi."

Orihime sighed exasperatedly before going over and searching every pocket of the bookbag. Finally, she found something; a white t-shirt with a local band logo on it, some dark jeans, and a pair of boxers. She blushed slightly as she tossed the last article of clothing in Ulquiorra's general direction. She pointed down the hallway. "Go and change and I'll let you come to the supermarket with me."

He stared at the clothing and then in the direction the onna was pointing, before standing and going into the bathroom to change.

Five minutes later, he came out, fully dressed. Orihime had to admit, dark colors looked much better on him than the pristine white of Las Noches. And that had looked pretty good on him to begin with. She blushed brightly before grabbing some shopping bags and heading out the door, Ulquiorra following close behind her like a silent, watchful shadow.

**Yay, shopping trip! ^-^ **

***Itadakimasu is a saying akin to "Bon appetite". It's generally said at the beginning of a meal. Check me on this, cuz I'm not too sure of it… **

**Again, I cannot stress this enough, warn me of OOCness! Please. Pretty please. With chocolate syrup and sprinkles and cool whip on top. **

**Also, be sure to vote on the poll in my profile that I mentioned in that freakishly long author's note waaay back at the beginning of the chapter (that I'm sure maybe 2 of you read XD). **

**Reviewers get t-shirts for their favorite bands! :D Even if said t-shirts don't exist! And some Japanese caffeinated candy! **

**So, R&R please! I love hearing from all of you. **

**~Erisu Koumei**


	11. Tradition

**First off, I'm very very very very sorry about the...umm...6 or 7 month wait for this. I kept thinking I'd write it, and then things would come up and...well...you get it. If you want a formal apology or some intense grovelling for forgiveness, message me and I'll be happy to oblige. **

**But this chapter is good. And long. I'm bringing it now. **

**I'm also apparently on the hunt for a new beta! Anyone who wants to beta, talk to me about it, leave a comment, message me, send a telegraph, give a letter to a previously unladen swallow (and measure its airspeed velocity), whatever method of communication you prefer. **

**Monty Python reference, for those who are hopelessly lost. **

**For all those people who reviewed so so long ago: you get my undying gratitude and whatever I promised in the last chapter. T-shirts and caffeine candy. :P **

**That's: talkstoangels77, Xylexia, Adree and Alfredo, MonkeyDLuffy7GR, Tozase-Murcielago, HinaTea, readingQueen, Foxgrl18, akumaxkami, Sylvertongue, Somerlia, Sarii123, CandyDrops, and YukiHimeChaan. :D**

**And I love all the countless people who alerted/subscribed/favorited and did all that fun stuff! You guys are my motivation, and I feel so terrible for waiting this long. I'll be more diligent from now on. **

**Someone just read the disclaimer. **

**Everyone:...**

**Me-...Fine. I don't own, so don't sue. **

**Tradition**

She scouted ahead and slipped into the shadows near the crumbling apartment building, her finely tuned senses quickly locating the specimens. There was only one reiatsu present on the bottom floor; all the other floors were empty, except the top one, where it appeared that the tenants had gathered. The other specimen couldn't be located. It was possible that it was on the top floor, but the chances were slim that its reiatsu could be hidden by the others. They would have to search elsewhere; the master would not be pleased if they came back with only one specimen. It could potentially reveal the entire operation if the other one noticed its companion had mysteriously disappeared. However, the master was sure to be happier with one specimen than none, and if the other one came after his companion, they would have even less trouble capturing him. But for now, they would have to take what they could get. She silently signaled her men.

Masking their presence with practiced ease, they surrounded the old building. The sounds of their footsteps swallowed up in the chaotic noises of drinking and fighting that emanated from the apartments, the usual nightly din. Three of them entered.

Moments later, four returned.

As silently as they had come, they left, leaving only the smallest signs of their presence; a few drops of blood on the carpet and a badly cracked table were hardly uncommon in this part of town.

The door slammed shut behind them.

On the top floor of the building, Grimmjow Jagerjacques, former 6th Espada, paused, sake bottle hovering inches away from his mouth as he looked out the window. He could've sworn he'd seen a shift in the dark. More importantly, he was almost out of sake; Nnoitra sure was taking his sweet time getting more. However, his attention was quickly grabbed by the massive brawl starting in the middle of the room. Feeling his jaw settle into a familiar feral grin, he jumped into the fray, letting any emotion, thought, and worry dissolve in the sweet rush of battle.

*0*0*

Oh, yes, he recognized this small grocery store. He had visited it countless times in the days after his arrival in the World of the Living. Of course, he hadn't been allowed to stay in the scientist's house for free. The damned shinigami had done his best to make the stay beyond miserable for the green-eyed former hollow. Refusing to be caught up in it directly, the blonde man had turned Ulquiorra over to his two vicious wards. The dark-haired girl wasn't too bad; she was quiet and usually minded her own business. She had the annoying habit of casually calling him "Moocher 2" at every occasion, and he had been unable to find out who the first Moocher had been, but other than that, she was entirely tolerable. No, it was the red-head who was the worst. He made up for his diminutive size in sheer annoyance, violent tendencies, and loud cursing. He had personally introduced the unfortunate Whole to a wide variety of tortures, running errands and cleaning all day being the most bearable. The worst…the former Espada was almost afraid to even think about it again. There were certain places on the body that a giant metal baseball bat should never slam into.

He suppressed a shudder, forcibly turning his thoughts to less painful subjects. The store was mostly empty, quiet enough that one could hear the upbeat music wafting out of the overhead speakers. A bored adolescent slumped against a checkout counter, loudly chewing the strange substance called gum. Ulquiorra had yet to try any, although Urahara's devil child enjoyed it immensely. That thought alone was almost enough to turn his interest away from the sweet completely.

The onna's bright laughter instantly caught his attention; she was fascinated by something in the fresh produce section. He didn't understand how she could find so much joy in such a mundane task. It seemed to him that she could find something in everything. Even…even in someone like him, she had managed to find something worth looking for.

He hovered a few feet behind her as they walked. The colorful displays and flashy advertisements were lost on him as he became lost in his thoughts, his jade eyes distant. What had she seen in him? Was there truly anything to find? He couldn't agree with her assessment of his character; she had always treated him like he was harmless, as pure and unstained as any of her human friends. Despite everything he had done and everything he had said, trying to force her to believe otherwise, she had always accepted him. She had always acted as if she couldn't or wouldn't see the darkness and sin that had stained him until his soul, whatever was left of his foolish human heart, was so dark and empty that it was nothing more than a shadow.

She had reached out to her enemy as he died, a last act of pity, even after his multiple attempts to murder her loved one. Pity had always seemed to be a weakness to him, a worthless emotion. But he knew she was far from weak or worthless, even though sometimes she acted as if she were; she was stronger than anyone he knew or knew of. He had heard the story from the blonde scientist about how she defeated Aizen, rejecting him until there was nothing left. If Aizen had truly stood on the level of a god, than she was nothing short of a goddess, infinitely strong in every way, even though she refused to ever show or use the majority of her power. What could such a perfect being see him as? Not a monster; She had stated several times that he didn't scare her, that she wasn't afraid of him and never had been. A sentiment that still eluded him. Despite this, he knew she didn't see him as an ally, one of her trusted nakama; he realized, with a startling sinking feeling in his chest, that she would most likely never consider him as such. And yet…she didn't treat him like trash, like he had treated all humans before. There was a certain level of understanding between them, a level that he was, as of yet, unable to completely fathom. Even with his rather limited knowledge of her character, he knew there was nothing else she would ever consider him to be. Not an ally, not an enemy, not a friend, and not a monster, either. She was an enigma, one of the few puzzles that he couldn't solve. The bad part about it was that he couldn't see where to begin. The worst part: he was afraid to even open his eyes and look.

She stopped moving; fate had, of course, chosen the moment when he was paying the least attention to his surroundings. Being slightly off-balance already for…obvious reasons, it didn't take much to knock Orihime off her feet. The slight jolt as her taller companion bumped into her was just enough. She fell forward, her sharp cry startling the green-eyed man out of his thoughts. His eyes quickly refocused, taking in the situation with practiced swiftness, time seeming to slow down. He instantly realized that he wouldn't be able to do much of anything with his worthless human reflexes; however, this didn't stop him from trying. He just barely managed to catch her by the waist; unfortunately for him, he just wasn't quick enough to get a good grip, and the laws of physics took it from there. The immaculately graceful Ulquiorra Schiffer was pulled to the ground behind the orange-haired woman, landing next to her in a rather undignified heap and whacking his head on the sharp corner of the metal shelf behind him in the process.

Embarrassingly enough, the woman recovered before he did and quickly scrambled to her feet, her large gray eyes trembling worriedly, words pouring out in an unintelligible jumble. "Ohmygosh,areyouokay?I'msuchaclutz,Iknow,butIdidn'tthink-"

He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and the onna's normally pleasant voice, turned shrill with anxiety. His head was throbbing…damned human frailties. He slowly opened his eyes, only to be assaulted by the glaring fluorescent lights. "Onna-"

"Areyoubleeding?That'sblood,isn'tit!Ohno,-"

It was indeed blood; he lifted his fingers away from the wound and saw that they were a coated in glistening ruby; a color he had once been more partial to than many others. Now he just felt sickened by it, by the color and the scent and the slick oily feel as it dried quickly and he rubbed it between his fingers. His ears were ringing with Orihime's high-pitched rambling. He braced himself against the metal shelves and leaned on them heavily, pulling himself to a standing position. "Onna-"

"Areyoudizzy?Maybeyoushouldsitdown,or-"

"Be quiet." Her voice faltered and fell away to nothing, her lips slightly parted as whatever she was about to say was choked off. Some old habits died hard. At least she was quiet, finally. He had learned already that once she started talking, it was nearly impossible to get her to stop. "Are you injured?"

Her eyebrows furrowed a little. "You're hurt worse than I am, we need to-"

"You're injured, onna?" His eyes darted across her body, searching for any obvious signs of damage. He felt blood trickling down his neck from the cut across his skull, hot and then cold as the air came in contact with the crimson liquid. Brightly colored lines danced across his vision; never a good thing. They usually came with the human ailment called a migraine; an ailment which had unfortunately decided to take up frequent residence in his head ever since he regained his memories.

Her expression grew more worried. "It doesn't matter, we need to put a bandage on that cut before-"

This was getting tiresome. He could see it now, how she put slightly more weight on her right foot. She must have twisted the other ankle when she fell; if it had been dislocated or broken, she would be in more pain than him. "You've injured your foot," he stated practically."Certainly that takes priority over-"

"Stop," she said, her voice carrying a dangerous edge of pure frustration, panicked anxiety, and stubbornness. Small tears were shining in the corners of her eyes. "I appreciate you worrying about me, but you don't have to treat me like I'm fragile, like I'm going to break at the slightest jolt." Ulquiorra was slightly awed; had she really interrupted him? "I've lived without your help for 18 years. I know how to take care of myself and I don't need you ordering me around like you know what's best for me. This isn't the world you used to live in. I thought you'd figured that out by now. I'm not the same as I was…" She sighed heavily; if she'd had less control, it might've come out as a sob. Her voice trembled when she spoke, and even her practiced facade couldn't cover up all of her distress at unearthing the old pain. "S-so stop being so stubborn, sometimes you have to ignore your pride and your nature, and just let someone else take care of _you_ for once. You're going to pass out if you keep bleeding like that, and believe it or not, I don't like seeing the people I care about in pain." She cared…? About him? How strange. The woman never ceased to amaze him. "I promise that once we get your head cleaned up, I'll do something about my foot, so just stop being such a…such an idiot."

Silence. Orihime sniffled quietly.

The teenager at the checkout counter looked at the pale man curiously. His gaze became anxious as he saw the fresh bloodstain drying on the customer's t-shirt. "Um…sir…are you okay? 'Cuz I can call the hospital if I need to…"

Ulquiorra gave the idiotic adolescent the coldest glare he could muster. The clerk gulped and bowed slightly. "U-uh, it's fine if you don't like that idea, I'll just be…um…tell me if there's anything you need…" The unfortunate boy backed away and took shelter from the intimidating stranger behind the checkout counter.

Orihime bent over and picked up the grocery list and basket that she had dropped somewhere along the way; they'd just have to scrape something together from what she had at home. Luckily, Orihime Inoue could make something out of anything. Feeling somewhat empowered by the thought, she limped out of the grocery store, head held high, the new injury to her foot and the scars on her heart pushed to the back of her mind.

*0*0*

He sat in a relaxed lotus position, his sleepy gray eyes staring out from under heavy lids, catching the motion of every speck of dust dancing in the evening sunbeams, every curl of smoke released by the smoldering incense. The scent was amazingly relaxing; his eyes slid shut lazily. Sleep…the only refuge he had left, the only safe haven away from the emptiness of the world that surrounded him. Despite being in Soul Society, surrounded by millions of other souls, he felt alone. He was relatively far away from his nearest neighbors; there used to be a family just down the road, but they moved away quickly after he arrived. Dreams were the only place where he could be with her again, be _whole_ again. He felt his whole being relax at the thought, already anticipating the solid warmth in his chest.

Deep sleep swallowed him quickly.

He dreamed that he was back in the cold white palace, surrounded by that familiar emptiness. But he was complete and powerful and together. Every day he was violently awoken by Lilinette and stared across the long white table at Halibel and sighed at Yammy's booming voice. Sure it was a hell to many, but the fact that others inhabited it was enough to make it his heaven. A place where he was able to coexist with other beings, despite the crushing power that he could feel flowing through him even now; he even considered some of them allies. There were no friends in Hueco Mundo, and no trust, but there were those who were less likely to stab you in the back, and they were your allies.

He dreamed of the time when the world stood still, stuck in eternal night; a time when everyone he knew, all those people that had filled him up, were frozen together in their collective drop of silvery amber.

For better or for worse.

*0*0*

They had no explanation for what was happening.

They had been gathered around the house, enveloped in the almost-suffocating darkness of the small hours of the morning; the moon and stars were obscured by heavy, wet clouds and the wind was picking up, bringing with it the promise of rain. Their reiatsu was hidden, and their dark clothing sheltered them from sight. The mission was set to begin, and the next specimen was trapped inside, cornered like the prey he was. Seconds later, they were all on their knees, suffocating on the sheer force of the reiatsu emanating from the being within the building.

One of them stood strong through the barrage. She narrowed her eyes at her…coworkers. They were pathetic. They had just barely managed to capture the first specimen, and now they were proving themselves even more worthless than before. She would have to complete the mission on her own; none of them could afford to risk the master's wrath, although she certainly had the best chance of surviving. She disappeared into the house.

The reiatsu burst was stifled, and then dropped off completely. Moments later, the hunters had disappeared, taking their quarry with them into the darkness.

The clouds burst open, their load of water hissing as it bounced off the earth and gradually soaked in, washing away any sign of the visitors' presence.

*0*0*

Surprisingly, his head had stopped hurting. The onna had stitched the wound up and cleaned it with an antiseptic wipe, chattering happily about the time she'd volunteered at Kurosaki's clinic. Of course, after she'd lost her powers, she had to revive her old skill with a first aid kit. She'd then given him two small tablets, a substance she called "Advil". He'd swallowed them with a sip of the drink she'd handed him, wrinkling his nose as the liquid sugar fizzed on his tongue, and wondering at how quickly she had recovered from the earlier episode. She had wrapped her ankle, and seemed to be walking with only a slight limp; there wouldn't be any permanent damage. Even her mood had settled: she no longer seemed disturbed or upset in the least. If she was still distressed, she was exceptionally good at hiding it.

Shortly thereafter, she had gotten him to chop onions. It was getting late, and she wanted to have whatever it was she was cooking finished as quickly as possible. The fumes burned his nose and, embarrassingly enough, made his eyes water slightly. He'd heard about this peculiar plant from Yammy; surprisingly, the idiot had gotten something about the human world right.

He waited until the onna was completely engrossed in her project before quickly wiping his eyes. His nose was running too, but there wasn't much he could do about it, not without attracting the onna's attention or inhaling more of the evil fumes. He chopped the vegetable as quickly as humanly possible, a sudden burst of energy (he assumed it was from the drink he'd had earlier) speeding the process considerably. He silently cursed the entire onion species to the dankest pits of Hueco Mundo he had ever had the misfortune to crawl into as he handed the cutting board to the onna, who gushed her thanks.

"Wow, Ulquiorra, you did that way faster than I could've!" He peeked over at the strange mixture bubbling in the large saucepot.

"Onna. What is that?"

"It's ramen with ketchup, spinach, peanut butter, sour cream, chopped onion, jumbo marshmallows and whipped cream mixed in!"

"…"

"It smells so good~!"

She beamed at him, reveling in the "delicious" smell wafting from the saucepot. The substance she poured into his bowl looked vaguely like something Yammy's dog had decided to deposit on the floor in the Cuarto's room in Hueco Mundo. He wasn't sure to this day how the dog had gotten in; the nasty beast had proceeded to sniff the mess, lick at it a bit, and trot off. After hunting the Decimo down, Ulquiorra made Yammy clean the rest up with his Espada jacket. Water was precious in Hueco Mundo, so laundry was done once a week as needed and Yammy only had the one jacket. Furthermore, Aizen required his Espada to show up to meetings in their uniforms. Yammy had an…interesting week.

Despite knowing next to nothing about human food, Ulquiorra was reasonably sure it was not supposed to resemble dog vomit.

Oh well. The onna certainly seemed proud of it, whatever it was. She set two bowls on the low table in the living room and sat down, eating with gusto. The former Espada sat down across from her, crossing his legs gracefully and studying the contents of the bowl that sat steaming on the table. His stomach growled angrily, reminding him of how hungry he was. The energy from the sweet drink he had had earlier was wearing off quickly, and the mixture in his soup bowl was looking more and more appetizing by the second. Cautiously, he took a sip of the thick broth. Suppressing his gag reflex, he just barely managed to swallow the concoction; it sat heavily in his stomach, which gurgled worryingly, obviously not happy with what it was being fed. He set the bowl down, composing himself.

"Onna."

"Hm?"

"This food is inedible."

"…" She cocked her head curiously, taking another bite of her own helping. She seemed to swish it around on her tongue, her expression thoughtful. Finally she swallowed, licking her lips pensively. "Hm…You know, now that I think about it, I didn't put in as much ketchup as I usually do, but it was all I had left. I meant to get some at the grocery store, but…" She trailed off and shrugged before returning to her meal. Ulquiorra slumped a little on his cushion. She had _completely_ missed the point.

His exasperation quickly disappeared to be replaced with a nagging feeling that he could be wrong. The green-eyed man was beginning to second guess himself. The meals that had been prepared for the onna in Las Noches certainly hadn't looked anything like what she was enjoying now; then again, he hadn't prepared those meals. He knew they were supposed to provide her with the required nutrition to sustain her but, having no reason to, he had never tasted them. For all he knew, the meals she had been served could have tasted like what the onna was eating now. Perhaps it was simply the way human food was. Taste wasn't exactly a new sensation to him, but it was certainly different now that he was…whatever he was. The sense was more physical, and the food had weight and substance and color, unlike his…earlier diet. It was very possible that he was simply more used to the taste of raw reiatsu, the delicate flavors of each unique soul and the way that the "food" had temporarily soothed the burning void inside him. Maybe it was just a matter of…adjusting to the new sustenance his body required.

However, the fact remained that he really had no idea how to use the strange utensils called "chopsticks"; they sat on the table, their glossy surfaces seeming to mock his ignorance. He had been watching his former captive scooping the noodles into her mouth for several minutes now, seemingly unaware of his stare. However, when he held the eating implements experimentally, mimicking her grip, he found that they fit awkwardly into his hand, and he had very little control over them. He could still feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach and, while it was not as excruciating as what he had felt as a hollow, it certainly wasn't comfortable.

He scowled at the steaming broth and the various bits of food floating in it. Well, there was absolutely no way he was going to admit to being unable to do something that was so obviously elementary in this world. No, unable wasn't the right word, he was just…less skilled with the strange tools the humans used. And to gain skill, one must practice.

Casting one last determined glance at the onna, he readjusted the chopsticks in his hand and opened and closed them under the table, getting used to the feel of them. Finally, feeling confidence rising in his chest, he dipped the chopsticks into the broth and closed them around a clump of noodles. Slowly, he lifted the chopsticks up, trying desperately to keep them clamped around their slippery load. His eyes were locked on the food, his free hand clenched tightly into a fist, all his energy focused on getting the food to his mouth. He leaned forward slightly, the chopsticks hovering mere inches away. A little bit of broth dripped down the noodles, leaving droplets on the table; just as he managed to touch the chopsticks to his lips, half of the noodles decided to slip free from his grip, plopping limply into his lap. He cursed under his breath as his eyes darted to Orihime, only to notice that she had left her seat while he wasn't paying attention, taking her bowl with her. He assumed that she had gone back to the kitchen for seconds.

He quickly shoved the remainder of the noodles in his mouth, rolling the taste around on his tongue. They weren't as revolting as the broth had been and, in fact, he was able to swallow them without gagging. He focused his attention back on the broth-soaked noodles currently staining his dark jeans. He took the cloth napkin off the table and placed it in his lap, discreetly placing the soiled food in it. He could throw deal with that later. Right now, he was still hungry.

He scooted closer to the table, picking up another clump of noodles and maneuvering the chopsticks more carefully. He had noticed that the onna was sitting rather close to her bowl; perhaps this was the reason why. The slick food slipped easily from between the utensils, splashing back into the broth. He leaned closer, his chopsticks closing around the noodles again. Slowly, deliberately, the food moved closer to his mouth. He was so close…

"BOHAHAHAHAAAA! THE SPIRITS ARE ALWAYS WITH YOU!"

The sudden noise completely shattered his concentration. He watched in horror as the sustenance he had worked so hard to obtain slipped back into the bowl with a wet _plop_, splashing the broth right into his eye. His free hand coming up to nurse the stinging orb, he turned around to give the giggling woman his coldest glare…and she wasn't there.

Slightly bewildered, he turned and saw her sitting exactly where she was before, her bowl refilled and steaming, her lunar eyes shimmering with devilish amusement. Her face broke out in a less-than-innocent smirk. "Ne, what's wrong Ulquiorra? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He refused to comment, somehow finding the strength of will to continue his attempts at using the chopsticks. This only seemed to amuse her more; she giggled as she watched him. Despite the fact that she was most certainly laughing _at _him and not with him, it wasn't malicious or really even irritating. Her laugh rang in a way that was pleasant, no matter what she found amusing. He felt his mouth quirk up a bit, feeling the onna's mirth seeping into him and slowly raising his spirits.

As he gained confidence with the new utensils, he began to eat faster and was soon finished. He forced his stomach to remain calm as he swallowed the remainder of the broth. By the time he stood and placed his bowl in the sink, the onna had had three helpings. Now she stood in the kitchen, her sleeves rolled up as she rinsed the various pots, pans, knives, and other cookware that had accumulated while they had cooked. Wordlessly, he picked up a dish rag and began to dry the clean dishes, setting them to the side until they could be stowed back in their various cabinets.

They stood comfortably close to each other and worked with a wordless harmony that seemed to stem from nowhere in particular. The silence between them was broken only by the sound of the scalding water rushing into the sink. The subtle rhythm of the chore was natural and relaxing and, as they stood together in the kitchen, neither of them thought to question it.

*0*0*

"Master…"

Her quiet address received no answer.

"Master."

He was completely engrossed in his work, as usual. The multiple computer monitors cast a bluish-white glow across the otherwise pitch-dark lab. Only the sound of long pale fingers glancing across the keyboard broke the silence. And yet he still didn't respond. She knew he would want to hear about this development, and yet she was reluctant to distract him from his current project. Logically, her announcement was of greater importance than anything else he might be involved in. Therefore he would be mad if she told him later, and mad if she told him now and interrupted his work. She had nothing to lose.

She rested a hand on his shoulder, cold eyes resting on him with a hard intensity. "Master. There has been a new development with-"

"Worthless rat! I told you yesterday that you were not to disturb me! I thought I designed you to remember orders better than you do. Honestly, anyone with a brain would conclude that you have the mental capacity of a housefly."

"I am aware of your orders, however-"

"However nothing! This project is of the utmost importance!"

"You told me specifically that the new study took priority over all else. I have kept the video memory if you wish to see it."

He stood and turned on her, golden eyes flashing with rage and a good deal of pure insanity. "I won't stand for this stuck-up attitude! Assuming that I forgot my own orders, the arrogance!" He backhanded her hard enough to send her flying across the room.

She lay where she had fallen, not meeting his eyes. She knew from experience that nothing she could say would save her from the beating she was about to receive.

He hovered over her, large, ominous, and powerful. "Your opinions don't matter! If I say tell me later, then tell me later! Continue to follow your orders and do not bother me until I come to personally survey the progress of the project!" He accented every other word with a sharp kick to the ribs. Blood leaked from the corner of the subordinate's lips, but she made no sound, bearing the abuse silently as she always had and always would. "You are absolutely worthless! I don't know why I even bothered to create you in the first place."

He kept kicking until he finally felt the alloyed structure crack under his blows. Having worked off his rage at being interrupted, he left her alone on the hard floor as he returned to his work, cursing the untimely interruption. He didn't worry about her; he had designed her with the most advanced technology. He knew that soon enough, her metallic bones would begin to knit themselves back together, and she would be ready to take her beatings again.

*0*0*

Ice cream and a movie; it was Orihime's Friday night tradition. Usually she would call Tatsuki, and the friends would sit in the dark, watching classic comedies or exciting action films. When they were younger, they'd watch a lot of Twilight-style teenage romance flicks, but something had changed in Orihime along the way, and she couldn't stand those movies anymore.

When she had timidly tried to explain this ritual to Ulquiorra, he had simply nodded his approval; she assumed he was either too bored to complain or didn't really understand what she was talking about. Maybe a little of both.

So now they sat on Orihime's small couch in her small living room, watching her small TV with all the lights turned off. The darkness only made her more aware of Ulquiorra's presence, so close but not quite touching due to a lot of effort on Orihime's part. She had squashed herself as close the arm of the sofa as possible in order to keep their hips from touching. It was incredibly uncomfortable; she fretted constantly about her position, and glanced over at her silent companion every few seconds. He sat as quietly as ever, seemingly absorbing the movie, a copy of Indiana Jones that had been dubbed over into Japanese. Totally unaffected. Of course he was. She tried her best to turn her attention to the movie as well.

After about 20 minutes, she was so caught up in the movie that she could almost forget that the green-eyed man was even there. She very nearly forgot where she was. She could make herself believe that she was in the jungles of South America stealing a golden idol, or in the deserts of Egypt trying to keep the Nazis from stealing the Ark of the Covenant. She imagined that she could feel the sun on her cheeks and the wind in her hair, the adrenaline still rushing through her blood from the latest scrape with mortal danger. She could lose herself in the worlds these movies presented and for a while, forget the pressures of everyday life.

Her posture relaxed as she watched until her hip and thigh were pressed snugly against Ulquiorra's. Yet it was her turn not to notice; even though she had seen the movie at least thirty times, she still leaned forward, eyes wide and muscles tense, waiting for the next surprise. The former Espada, however, instantly stiffened at the contact. As close as they were sitting, he could almost feel the warmth that surrounded her, a soft warmth that was at once novel and intoxicating and absolutely irresistible. It would take next to no effort to close the gap between them, a scant 6 or 7 inches, and so easy to simply-

Here he cut himself off, his well-trained mind interfering before his base impulses could lead him any farther astray. He was the woman's protector, here to continue the mission that had refused to end, even after he had died. If that meant taking on all of Soul Society armed with nothing more than his average human strength or fighting back an army of hungry Menos, he would do just that. And if it meant protecting the woman from himself, he would do whatever he had to to ensure her safety.

Time dragged on, and the digital display on the DVD player soon read 00:30 AM. The movie had finally come to its gruesome but happy end. Orihime yawned and stretched, pulling the slight stiffness out of her muscles. Suddenly she squeaked a bit, startled as she felt something shifting beside her; she had almost completely forgotten that Ulquiorra was next to her. He had somehow fallen asleep sitting up; with his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his mouth set tightly, his expression was thoughtful and almost conflicted. She stood slowly, not only because her legs were stiff, but also because she didn't want to disturb him any further. Feeling the loss of her presence, he stretched out on the sofa but didn't wake.

With the movie turned off, the house was silent and dark. She felt her heart skip a beat as she heard a harsh, loud buzzing sound followed by a faint light shining from her room. She stood frozen, listening for any sign that the disturbance may have woken her green-eyed companion. After a few moments of silence, she allowed herself to breathe again and walked into her room. The painfully bright screen of her cell phone greeted her:

1 NEW MESSAGE  
FROM:  
TATSUKI-CHAN

*0*0*

His eyelids parted slowly, heavily. Stormy eyes were greeted with a darkness that left their owner unsure that he had even opened them. As he blinked, he began to make out shapes on the ceiling, throwing slight shadows. He turned his head with some difficulty, feeling as if it were a block of lead. Around him were other shapes, glowing palely in the blackness. He tried wiggling his fingers and toes and they responded sluggishly, as if they had been asleep and were being reluctantly awoken. He lifted his hand a few inches off the surface he was stretched on, and could feel it trembling from the effort. Something caught on his wrist, but his skin was almost comfortably numb and he couldn't tell what it was.

He closed his eyes again and mentally checked over every part of his body. There was a slight pressure on both wrists and ankles, and something caught on his lower ribs as he breathed. There was something on the inside of his elbow. But nothing hurt. In fact, everything was…neutral. Almost disturbingly so. _Maybe I'm drugged…_

His brain churned the thought out at its own lethargic pace. But even thinking this he wasn't alarmed. He couldn't be. He was so comfortable…And it was nice and dark in the room. He could easily just go back to sleep and forget this odd dream.

But the tiny corner of his mind that was thinking logically felt otherwise. There was something off about this, and he knew it. He should be more worried about this. Where was he? Why was he so comfortable? The surface he was lying on was rather hard, not meant for sleeping and certainly not made for comfort. And why wasn't any of this worrying him? What was that little pinch in the crook of his elbow? He tried to move his arms. He felt the muscles clench but nothing moved. Finally, he felt that little tug on his wrists. His arms were trying to move, but something was keeping them down. His mind was shaking off its delirium; he could see more clearly now. There were human shapes on both sides of him, lying on tables and covered in sheets. The closest was barely three feet away, just enough space for a person to walk between the tables. Something glinted near his elbow; a needle, and plastic tubing connected to a bag that hung from a high, glinting pole. He _had_ been drugged. He was on a drip. It was safe to assume that his wrists and ankles were restrained.

Although his mind had shaken off the drug, his body was still heavy and unresponsive. He could feel a long-restrained power bubbling up in response to his racing thoughts, but it couldn't reach his limbs. The space around him began to glow as the reishi-thick air was stirred, carrying the echo of his power throughout the room. He tried to push it back, but his core was boiling over with the spiritual power; everything else remained numb, dead to any sort of feeling. The halo around him now illuminated the whole room, and he could hear the distant echoes of alarms going off.

A door slid open with a pneumatic hiss and the room was suddenly blindingly bright. He felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he shut them tightly. He heard panicked shouts, but they were too jumbled for him to make any sense of them. Blinking cautiously in the glaring, artificial light that now flooded the room, he could make out the face of the figure lying closest to him. His breath caught as his eyes trailed over the childish, battered face and the dark stains on the sheet that concealed the figure's body from him.

Shocked, he relaxed, and the drug began to take hold again. Something pricked his arm, but he barely felt it. Anguish and something akin to panic was welling up inside him. He needed to get free, now. If he could just move his arms…

He could feel the new sedative trying to pull him under, but he fought it. He needed to see. His arms strained against the bonds, even as more and more faceless people tried to hold him down. A quick burst of reiatsu flared off of his body, and they collapsed with a coordinated silence, like puppets whose strings have been suddenly cut. He began to feel pain from his limbs, distant and dulled but definitely there. The restraints refused to give way.

His reiatsu was moving the air. The sheets around him were billowing against the figures they concealed. If he could just lift it enough… He searched for more power, struggling to draw it out despite the sedative. The sheet covering his own body flew away, and he felt cold, realizing for the first time that he was naked.

The edge of the accompanying sheet flipped up, baring the small female shape that lay beneath it. He saw oddly-colored bruises and scars and trails of dried blood. Her body had been cut open in the "T" shape typical of autopsies. Dark stitches stood up against the skin where the incision had been stitched back together. Drained and exhausted, he collapsed back onto the table, feeling the drug pull him into oblivion. A voice swam briefly into his hearing before he completely lost consciousness:

"We underestimated…raise the dosage of…and get rid of the other one. We're done with it."

**I only had a beta for half of this. Forgive any typos, glaring grammatical errors, or other things like that. **

**And so the plot is set in motion. Finally. Hope you liked it! **

**~Erisu Koumei**


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